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THE  GOSPEL  ACCORDING  TO 


ST.  MARK 


CHAPTERS  IX.  TO  XVI 


BY 


ALEXANDER    MACLAREN 


D.D.,  LiTT.D. 


V 


■yr   r. 


UoW 


ijCV-riiV  Dec  . 


NEW    YORK 
A.   C.   ARMSTRONG  AND   SON 

3  AND  5  WEST  i8th  STREET 

LONDON:  HODDER  AND  STOUGHTON 
1907 


T 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Thh  TBANSPiauRATiON  (Mark  ix.  2-13)  •  • 


*  This  is  My  Bblovbd  Son  :  Hear  Him  '  (Mark  ix.  7) 
Jbsus  Oni^t  (Mark  ix.  8)        •  t  •  • 
Christ's  Lambnt  Over  Our  Faithlessness  (Mark  ix.  19) 
Thb  Omnipotence  op  Faith  (Mark  ix.  23)  .  • 
UNBBLiBViNa  Belief  (Mark  ix.  24)  •            •  • 
Recbiying  and  Forbidding  (Mark  ix.  3342)  • 

An  Unanswered  Qubstion  (Mark  ix.  33)    •  • 

Salted  with  Firb  (Mark  ix.  49)      •  •  • 

•  Salt  in  Yourselves  '  (Mark  ix.  50)  .  • 
Children  and  Childlike  Mbn  (Mark  x.  13-15)  • 
Almost  a  Disciple  (Mark  x.  17-27)  .  .  • 
Christ  on  the  Road  to  the  Cross  (Mar^  x.  32)  . 


1 

7 
11 
IS 
22 
83 
44 
64 
65 
64 
70 
74 
81 


VI 


GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK 


DiGHiTY  AWD  Sbbvicb  (Mark  X.  35-45)  . 

Babtim^us  (Mark  x.  46)       .  ,  , 

An  Eaghb  Oomino  (Mark  z.  60)       • 
LovB'8  Question  (Mark  x.  51 ;  Acta  ix.  6)    , 
A  RoTAL  Pbogbess  (Mark  xi.  2)       , 
Ohbibt's  Need  of  Us  and  Oubs  (Mark  xi.  8) 
Nothing  but  Leaves  (Mark  xi.  13, 14)        , 
Dishonest  Tenants  (Mark  xii.  1-12) 
God's  Last  Abbow  (Mark  xii.  6)      , 
Not  Fab  and  Not  In  (Mark  xii.  34) 
The  Obedulity  of  Unbelief  (Mark  xiii.  6 ;  Luke 
AuTHOBiTY  AND  WoBK  (Mark  xiii.  34)  , 

The  Alabastbb  Box  (Mark  xiv.  6-9)  . 

A  Seobbt  Bbndbzyous  (Mark  xiv.  12-16)     • 
The  New  Passoveb  (Mark  xiv.  12-28)  . 

•Is  It  I?'  (Mark xiv.  19)      .  .  , 

•  Stbong  Cbying  and  Teabs  '  (Mark  xiv.  32-42) 


xviii.  8) 


»! 


107 

109 

119 

127 

137 

144 

148 

151 

lOT 

162 

171 

175 

182 

187 


CONTENTS  vii 

PAOB 

Thk  Slkbpino  Apostle  (Mark  xiv.  37)         •  •  .194 

Thb    Oaptivb    Christ    and    thb    Cibclb    Round    Him 

(Mark  xiv.  43-54)  .  .  .  .  .203 

Thh     Condemnation    which     Condemns    thb    Judobs 

(Mark  xiv.  55-65)  .  .  .  .  .211 

Christ  and  Pilate  :  The  True  King  and  His  Counter- 
feit (Mark  xv.  1-20)        .  ,  .  ,  .219 

The  Death  which  Gives  Life  (Mark  xv.  21-39)     .  .     228 

Simon  the  Ctrenian  (Mark  xv.  21)  .  •  •     237 

The  Incredulous  Disciples  (Mark  xvi.  1-13)         .  .248 

Perpetual  Youth  (Mark  xvi.  5)     ,  .  ,  .258 

i 

Thb  First  Preaching  of  the  Resurrection  (Mark  xvi. 

6,  6)         .  .  .  .  .  .  .274 

Love's  Triumph  Over  Sin  (Mark  xvi.  7)     .  •  .     284 

*  First  to  Mart  '  (Mark  xvi.  9)        .  •  .  ,     802 

The  World-wide  Commission  (Mark  xvi.  15)  •  .808 

The  Enthroned  Christ  (Mark  xvi.  19)       .  •  .     812 


THE  TRANSFIGURATION 

'And  after  six  days  Jesus  taketh  with  Him  Peter,  and  James,  and  John,  and 
leadeth  them  up  into  an  high  mountain  apart  by  themselves :  and  He  was 
transfigured  before  them.  3.  And  His  raiment  became  shining,  exceeding  white 
as  snow ;  so  as  no  fuller  on  earth  can  white  them.  4.  And  there  appeared  unto 
them  Elias  with  Moses :  and  they  were  talking  with  Jesus.  5.  And  Peter  answered 
and  said  to  Jesus,  Master,  it  is  good  for  us  to  be  here :  and  let  us  make  three 
tabernacles ;  one  for  Thee,  and  one  for  Moses,  and  one  for  Elias.  6.  For  he  wist 
not  what  to  say ;  for  they  were  sore  afraid.  7.  And  there  was  a  cloud  that  over- 
shadowed them :  and  a  voice  came  out  of  the  cloud,  saying.  This  is  My  beloved 
Son  :  hear  Him.  8.  And  suddenly,  when  they  had  looked  round  about,  they  saw 
no  man  any  more,  save  Jesus  only  with  themselves.  9.  And  as  they  came  down 
from  the  mountain,  He  charged  them  that  they  should  tell  no  man  what  things 
they  had  seen,  till  the  Son  of  Man  were  risen  from  the  dead.  10.  And  they  kept 
that  saying  with  themselves,  questioning  one  with  another  what  the  rising  from 
the  dead  should  mean.  11.  And  they  asked  Him,  saying,  Why  say  the  scribes  that 
Elias  must  first  come?  12.  And  He  answered  and  told  them,  Elias  verily  cometh 
first,  and  restoreth  all  things ;  and  how  it  is  written  of  the  Son  of  Man,  that  Ho 
must  suffer  many  things,  and  be  set  at  nought.  13.  But  I  say  unto  you.  That  Elias 
is  indeed  come,  and  they  have  done  unto  him  whatsoever  they  listed,  as  it  is 
written  of  him.'— Mark  ix.  2-13. 

All  three  Evangelists  are  careful  to  date  the  Trans- 
figuration by  a  reference  to  the  solemn  new  teaching 
at  Csesarea,  and  Mark's  '  six  days '  plainly  cover  the 
same  time  as  Luke's  '  eight ' — the  former  reckoning 
excluding  in  the  count,  and  the  latter  including,  the 
days  on  which  the  two  incidents  occurred.  If  we  would 
understand  the  Transfiguration,  then,  we  must  look  at 
it  as  the  sequel  to  Jesus'  open  announcement  of  His 
death.  His  seeking  the  seclusion  of  the  hills,  attended 
only  by  the  innermost  group  of  the  faithful  three,  is  a 
touching  token  of  the  strain  to  which  that  week  had 
subjected  Him.  How  Peter's  heart  must  have  filled 
with  thankfulness  that,  notwithstanding  the  stern 
rebuke,  he  was  taken  with  the  other  two  !  There  were 
VOL.  II.  A 


2  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

three  stages  in  the  complex  incident  which  we  call  the 
Transfiguration — the  change  in  Jesus'  appearance,  the 
colloquy  with  Moses  and  Elijah,  and  the  voice  from  the 
cloud. 

Luke,  who  has  frequent  references  to  Jesus'  prayers, 
tells  us  that  the  change  in  our  Lord's  countenance  and 
raiment  took  place  '  as  He  prayed ' ;  and  probably  we 
are  reverently  following  his  lead  if  we  think  of  Jesus' 
prayer  as,  in  some  sense,  the  occasion  of  the  glorious 
change.  So  far  as  we  know,  this  was  the  only  time 
when  mortal  eyes  saw  Him  absorbed  in  communion 
with  the  Father.  It  was  only '  when  He  ceased  praying  * 
in  a  certain  place  that  *  they  came  to  Him '  asking  to  be 
taught  to  pray  (Luke  xi.  1);  and  in  Gethsemane  the 
disciples  slept  while  He  prayed  beneath  the  olives 
quivering  in  the  moonlight.  It  may  be  that  what  the 
three  then  saw  did  not  occur  then  only.  *  In  such  an 
hour  of  high  communion  with '  His  Father  the  elevated 
spirit  may  have  more  than  ordinarily  illuminated  the 
pure  body,  and  the  pure  body  may  have  been  more 
than  ordinarily  transparent.  The  brighter  the  light, 
fed  by  fragrant  oil  within  an  alabaster  lamp,  the  more 
the  alabaster  will  glow.  Faint  f oreshadowings  of  the 
spirit's  power  to  light  up  the  face  with  unearthly 
beauty  of  holiness  are  not  unknown  among  us.  It  may 
be  that  the  glory  which  always  shone  in  the  depths  of 
His  perfectly  holy  manhood  rose,  as  it  were,  to  the 
surface  for  that  one  time,  a  witness  of  what  He  really 
was,  a  prophecy  of  what  humanity  may  become. 

Did  Jesus  will  His  transfiguration,  or  did  it  come 
about  without  His  volition,  or  perhaps  even  without 
His  consciousness?  Did  it  continue  during  all  the  time 
on  the  mountain,  or  did  it  pass  when  the  second  stage 
of  the  incident  began  ?    We  cannot  tell.    Matthew  and 


vs.  2-13]      THE  TRANSFIGURATION  3 

Mark  both  say  that  Jesus  was  transfigured  '  before '  the 
three,  as  if  the  making  visible  of  the  glory  had  special 
regard  to  them.  It  may  be  that  Jesus,  like  Moses, 
*  knew  not  that  the  skin  of  His  face  shone ' ;  at  all  events, 
it  was  the  second  stage  of  the  incident,  the  conversation 
with  Elijah  and  Moses,  that  had  a  special  message  of 
strength  for  Him.  The  first  and  third  stages  were, 
apparently,  intended  for  the  three  and  for  us  all ;  and 
the  first  is  a  revelation,  not  only  of  the  veiled  glory 
that  dwelt  in  Jesus,  but  of  the  beauty  that  may  pass 
into  a  holy  face,  and  of  the  possibilities  of  a  bodily 
frame  becoming  a  •  spiritual  body,'  the  adequate  organ 
and  manifestation  of  a  perfect  spirit.  Paul  teaches  the 
prophetic  aspect  of  the  Transfiguration  when  he  says 
that  Jesus  'shall  change  the  body  of  our  humiliation 
that  it  may  be  fashioned  like  unto  the  body  of  His 
glory.' 

Luke  adds  two  very  significant  points  to  the  accounts 
by  Matthew  and  Mark — namely,  the  disciples'  sleep,  and 
the  subject  on  which  Moses  and  Elijah  talked  with 
Jesus.  Mark  lays  the  main  stress  on  the  fact  that  the 
two  great  persons  of  the  old  economy,  its  founder  and 
its  restorer,  the  legislator  and  the  chief  of  the  prophets, 
came  from  the  dim  region  to  which  one  of  them  had 
passed  in  a  chariot  of  fire,  and  stood  by  the  transfigured 
Christ,  as  if  witnessing  to  Him  as  the  greater,  to  whom 
their  ministries  were  subordinate,  and  in  whom  their 
teachings  centred.  Jesus  is  the  goal  of  all  previous 
revelation,  mightier  than  the  mightiest  who  are 
honoured  by  being  His  attendants.  He  is  the  Lord 
both  of  the  dead  and  of  the  living,  and  the  '  spirits  of 
just  men  made  perfect '  bow  before  Him,  and  reverently 
watch  His  work  on  earth. 

So  much  did  that  appearance  proclaim  to  the  m.ortal 


4  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [on.  ix. 

three,  but  their  slumber  showed  that  they  were  not 
principally  concerned,  and  that  the  other  three  had 
things  to  speak  which  they  were  not  fit  to  hear.  The 
theme  was  the  same  which  had  been,  a  week  before, 
spoken  to  them,  and  had  doubtless  been  the  subject  of 
all  Jesus'  teachings  for  these '  six  days.'  No  doubt,  their 
horror  at  the  thought,  and  His  necessary  insistence 
on  it,  had  brought  Him  to  need  strengthening.  And 
these  two  came,  as  did  the  angel  in  Gethsemane,  and, 
like  him,  in  answer  to  Christ's  prayer,  to  bring  the 
sought-for  strength.  How  different  it  would  be  to 
speak  to  them  *  of  the  decease  which  He  should  accom- 
plish at  Jerusalem,'  from  speaking  to  the  reluctant, 
protesting  Twelve!  And  how  different  to  listen  to 
them  speaking  of  that  miracle  of  divine  love  expressed 
in  human  death  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  'prin- 
cipalities and  powers  in  heavenly  places,'  as  over  against 
the  remonstrances  and  misunderstandings  with  which 
He  had  been  struggling  for  a  whole  week!  The 
appearance  of  Moses  and  Elijah  teaches  us  the  relation 
of  Jesus  to  all  former  revelation,  the  interest  of  the 
dwellers  in  heavenly  light  in  the  Cross,  and  the  need 
which  Jesus  felt  for  strengthening  to  endure  it. 

Peter's  foolish  words,  half  excused  by  his  being 
scarcely  awake,  may  be  passed  by  with  the  one  remark 
that  it  was  like  him  to  say  something,  though  he  did 
not  know  what  to  say,  and  that  it  would  therefore 
have  been  wise  to  say  nothing. 

The  third  part  of  this  incident,  the  appearance  of  the 
cloud  and  the  voice  from  it,  was  for  the  disciples. 
Luke  tells  us  that  it  was  a  'bright'  cloud,  and  yet  it 
•  overshadowed  them.'  That  sets  us  on  the  right  track 
and  indicates  that  we  are  to  think  of  the  cloud  of  glory, 
which  was  the  visible  token  of  the  divine  presence,  the 


vs.  2-13]      THE  TRANSFIGURATION  5 

cloud  which  shone  lambent  between  the  cherubim,  the 
cloud  which  at  last  *  received  Him  out  of  their  sight.' 
Luke  tells,  too,  that  'they  entered  into  it.'  Who  entered? 
Moses  and  Elijah  had  previously  '  departed  from  Him.' 
Jesus  and  the  disciples  remained,  and  we  cannot  sup- 
pose that  the  three  could  have  passed  into  that  solemn 
glory,  if  He  had  not  led  them  in.  In  that  sacred 
moment  He  was  '  the  way,'  and  keeping  close  to  Him, 
mortal  feet  could  pass  into  the  glory  which  even  a 
Moses  had  not  been  fit  to  behold.  The  spiritual  signi- 
ficance of  the  incident  seems  to  require  the  supposition 
that,  led  by  Jesus,  they  entered  the  cloud.  They  were 
men,  therefore  they  were  afraid  ;  Jesus  was  with  them, 
therefore  they  stood  within  the  circle  of  that  light  and 
lived. 

The  voice  repeated  the  attestation  of  Jesus  as  the 
'  beloved  Son '  of  the  Father,  which  had  been  given  at 
the  baptism,  but  with  the  addition, '  Hear  Him,'  which 
shows  that  it  was  now  meant  for  the  disciples,  not,  as 
at  the  baptism,  for  Jesus  Himself.  While  the  command 
to  listen  to  His  voice  as  to  the  voice  from  the  cloud  is 
perfectly  general,  and  lays  all  His  words  on  us  as  all 
God's  words,  it  had  special  reference  to  the  disciples, 
and  that  in  regard  to  the  new  teaching  which  had  so 
disturbed  them — the  teaching  of  the  necessity  for  His 
death.  '  The  offence  of  the  Cross '  began  with  the  first 
clear  statement  of  it,  and  in  the  hearts  that  loved  Him 
best  and  came  most  near  to  understanding  Him.  To 
fail  in  accepting  His  teaching  that  it '  behoved  the  Son 
of  Man  to  suffer,'  is  to  fail  in  accepting  it  in  the  most 
important  matter.  There  are  sounds  in  nature  too  low- 
pitched  to  be  audible  to  untrained  ears,  and  the  message 
of  the  Cross  is  unheard  unless  the  ears  of  the  deaf  are 
unstopped.    If  we  do  not  hear  Jesus  when  He  speaks 


6  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

of  His  passion,  we  may  almost  as  well  not  hear  Him 
at  all. 

Moses  and  Elijah  had  vanished,  having  borne  their 
last  testimony  to  Jesus.  Peter  had  wished  to  keep  them 
beside  Jesus,  but  that  could  not  be.  Their  highest 
glory  was  to  fade  in  His  light.  They  came,  they  dis- 
appeared; He  remained — and  remains.  'They  saw  no 
man  any  more,  save  Jesus  only  with  themselves.'  So 
should  it  be  for  us  in  life.  So  may  it  be  with  us  in 
death !  *  Hear  Him,'  for  all  other  voices  are  but  for  a 
time,  and  die  into  silence,  but  Jesus  speaks  for  eternity, 
and  'His  words  shall  not  pass  away.'  When  time  is 
ended,  and  the  world's  history  is  all  gathered  up  into 
its  final  issue.  His  name  shall  stand  out  alone  as  Author 
and  End  of  all. 


•THIS  IS  MY  BELOVED  SON:  HEAR  HIM' 

'  And  there  was  a  cloud  that  overshadowed  them :  and  a  voice  came  out  of  the 
olond,  saying,  This  is  My  beloved  Son  :  hear  Him.'— Mark  ix.  7. 

"With  regard  to  the  first  part  of  these  words  spoken  at 
the  Transfiguration,  they  open  far  too  large  and  won- 
derful a  subject  for  me  to  do  more  than  just  touch 
with  the  tip  of  my  finger,  as  it  were,  in  passing, 
because  the  utterance  of  the  divine  words,  *  This  is  My 
beloved  Son,'  in  all  the  depth  of  their  meaning  and 
loftiness,  is  laid  as  the  foundation  of  the  two  words 
that  come  after,  which,  for  us,  are  the  all-important 
things  here.  And  so  I  would  rather  dwell  upon  them 
than  upon  the  mysteries  of  the  first  part,  but  a  sen- 
tence must  be  spared.  If  we  accept  this  story  before 
us  as  the  divine  attestation  of  the  mystery  of  the 
person  and  nature  of  Jesus  Christ,  we  must  take  the 
words  to  mean — as  these  disciples,  no  doubt,  took  them 
to  mean — something  pointing  to  a  unique  and  solitary 
revelation  which  He  bore  to  the  Divine  Majesty.  We 
have  to  see  in  them  the  confirmation  of  the  great  truth 
that  the  manhood  of  Jesus  Christ  was  the  supernatural 
creation  of  a  direct  divine  power.  'Conceived  of  the 
Holy  Ghost,  bom  of  the  Virgin  Mary ' ;  therefore,  '  that 
Holy  Thing  which  shall  be  born  of  thee  shall  be  called 
the  Son  of  God.'  And  we  have  to  go,  as  I  take  it, 
farther  back  than  the  earthly  birth,  and  to  say,  'No 
man  hath  seen  God  at  any  time — the  only  begotten 
Son  which  is  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father.'  He  was  the 
Son  here  by  human  birth,  and  was  in  the  bosom  of 
the  Father  all  through  that  human  life.  *  He  hath 
declared  Him/  and  so  not  only  is  there  here  the  testi- 

T 


8  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

mony  to  the  miraculous  incarnation,  and  to  the  true 
and  proper  Divinity  and  Deity  of  Jesus  Christ,  but 
there  is  also  the  witness  to  the  perfectness  of  His 
character  in  the  great  word,  *  This  is  My  beloved  Son,' 
which  points  us  to  an  unbroken  communion  of  love 
between  Him  and  the  Father,  which  tells  us  that  in 
the  depths  of  that  divine  nature  there  has  been  a 
constant  play  of  mutual  love,  which  reveals  to  us  that 
in  His  humanity  there  never  was  anything  that  came 
as  the  faintest  film  of  separation  between  His  will  and 
the  will  of  the  Father,  between  His  heart  and  the  heart 
of  God. 

But  this  revelation  of  the  mysterious  personality  of 
the  divine  Son,  the  perfect  harmony  between  Him  and 
God,  is  here  given  as  the  ground  of  the  command  that 
follows:  'Hear  Him.'  God's  voice  bids  you  listen  to 
Christ's  voice — God's  voice  bids  you  listen  to  Christ's 
voice  as  His  voice.  Listen  to  Him  when  He  speaks  to 
you  about  God — do  not  trust  your  own  fancy,  do  not 
trust  your  own  fear,  do  not  trust  the  dictates  of  your 
conscience,  do  not  consult  man,  do  not  listen  to  others, 
do  not  speculate  about  the  mysteries  of  the  earth  and 
the  heavens,  but  go  to  Him,  and  listen  to  the  only 
begotten  Son  in  the  bosom  of  the  Father.  He  declares 
unto  us  God ;  in  Him  alone  we  have  certain  knowledge 
of  a  loving  Father  in  heaven.  Hear  Him  when  He  tells 
us  of  God's  tenderness  and  patience  and  love.  Hear 
Him  above  all  when  He  says  to  us, '  As  Moses  lifted  up 
the  serpent  in  the  wilderness,  even  so  must  the  Son  of 
Man  be  lifted  up.'  Hear  Him  when  He  says, '  The  Son 
of  Man  came  to  give  His  life  a  ransom  for  many.' 
Hear  Him  when  He  speaks  of  Himself  as  Judge  of  you 
and  me  and  all  the  world,  and  when  He  says,  *  The  Son 
of  Man  shall  come  in  His  glory,  and  before  Him  shall 


V.7]        *THIS  IS  MY  BELOVED  SON*  9 

be  gathered  all  nations.'  Hear  Him  then.  Hear  Him 
when  He  calls  you  to  Himself.  Hear  Him  when  He 
says  to  you,  *  Come  unto  Me  all  ye  that  labour  and 
are  heavy  laden.'  Hear  Him  when  He  says,  'If  any 
man  come  unto  Me  he  shall  never  thirst.'  Hear  Him 
when  He  says,  '  Cast  your  burden  upon  Me,  and  I  will 
sustain  you.'  Hear  Him  when  He  commands.  Hear 
Him  when  He  says,  '  If  ye  love  Me  keep  My  command- 
ments,' and  when  He  says,  *  Abide  in  Me  and  I  in  you,' 
hear  Him  then.  *  In  all  time  of  our  tribulation,  in  all 
time  of  our  well-being,  in  the  hour  of  death,  and  in 
the  day  of  judgment,'  let  us  listen  to  Him. 

Dear  friends,  there  is  no  rest  anywhere  else ;  there  is 
no  peace,  no  pleasure,  no  satisfaction — except  close  at 
His  side.  *  Speak  Lord !  for  Thy  servant  heareth.'  '  To 
whom  shall  we  go  but  unto  Thee  ?  Thou  hast  the  words 
of  eternal  life.'  Look  how  these  disciples,  grovelling 
there  on  their  faces,  were  raised  by  the  gentle  hand 
laid  upon  their  shoulder,  and  the  blessed  voice  that 
brought  them  back  to  consciousness,  and  how,  as  they 
looked  about  them  with  dazed  eyes,  all  was  gone.  The 
vision,  the  cloud,  Moses  and  Elias  —  the  lustre  and 
radiance  and  the  dread  voice  were  past,  and  everything 
was  as  it  used  to  be.  Christ  stood  alone  there  like 
some  solitary  figure  relieved  against  a  clear  daffodil 
sky  upon  some  extended  plain,  and  there  was  nothing 
else  to  meet  the  eye  but  He.  Christ  is  there,  and  in 
Him  is  all. 

That  is  a  summing  up  of  all  Divine  revelation.  •  God, 
who  at  sundry  times  and  in  divers  manners  spake  in 
time  past  unto  the  fathers  by  the  prophets,  hath,  in 
these  last  days,  spoken  unto  us  by  His  Son.'  Moses 
dies,  Elijah  fades,  clouds  and  symbols  and  voices  and 
all  mortal  things  vanish,  but  Jesus  Christ  stands  be- 


10  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

fore  us,  the  manifest  God,  for  ever  and  ever,  the  sole 
illumination  of  the  world.  It  is  also  a  summing  up  of 
all  earthly  history.  All  other  people  go.  The  beach  of 
time  is  strewed  with  wrecked  reputations  and  forgotten 
glories.  And  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say  that  I  believe 
that,  as  the  ages  grow,  and  the  world  gets  further 
away  in  time  from  the  Cross  upon  Calvary,  more  and 
more  everything  else  will  sink  beneath  the  horizon, 
and  Christ  alone  be  left  to  fill  the  past  as  He  fi.lls 
the  present  and  the  future. 

We  may  make  that  scene  the  picture  of  our  lives. 
Distractions  and  temptations  that  lie  all  round  us  are 
ever  seeking  to  drag  us  away.  There  is  no  peace  any- 
where but  in  having  Christ  only — my  only  pattern, 
my  only  hope,  my  only  salvation,  my  only  guide,  my 
only  aim,  my  only  friend.  The  solitary  Christ  is  the 
sufficient  Christ,  and  that  for  ever.  Take  Him  for  your 
only  friend,  and  you  need  none  other.  Then  at  death 
there  may  be  a  brief  spasm  of  darkness,  a  momentary 
fear,  perchance,  but  then  the  touch  of  a  Brother's 
hand  will  be  upon  us  as  we  lie  there  prone  in  the  dust, 
and  we  shall  lift  up  our  eyes,  and  lo !  life's  illusions  are 
gone,  and  life's  noises  are  fallen  dumb,  and  we  •  see  no 
man  any  more,  save  Jesus  only,'  with  ourselves. 


JESUS  ONLY  I 

'They  saw  no  man  any  more,  save  Jesus  only  with  themselvea.'— Mabk  Ix.  8. 

The  Transfiguration  was  the  solemn  inauguration  of 
Jesus  for  His  sufferings  and  death. 

Moses,  the  founder,  and  Elijah,  the  restorer,  of 
the  Jewish  polity,  the  great  Lawgiver  and  the  great 
Prophet,  were  present.  The  former  had  died  and  been 
mysteriously  buried,  the  latter  had  been  translated 
without  *  seeing  death.'  So  both  are  visitors  from  the 
unseen  world,  appearing  to  own  that  Jesus  is  the  Lord 
of  that  dim  land,  and  that  there  they  draw  their  life  from 
Him.  The  conversation  is  about  Christ's  '  decease,'  the 
wonderful  e"v  ent  which  was  to  constitute  Him  Lord  of 
the  living  anc'  of  the  dead.  The  divine  voice  of  com- 
mand, 'Hear  Him!'  gives  the  meaning  of  their  dis- 
appearance. At'  that  voice  they  depart  and  Jesus  is 
left  alone.  The  scene  is  typical  of  the  ultimate  issue  of 
the  world's  history.  The  King's  name  only  will  at  last 
be  found  inscribed  on  the  pyramid.  Typical,  too,  is  it 
not,  of  a  Christian's  blessed  death  ?  When  the  '  cloud ' 
is  past  no  man  is  seen  any  mor*^  but  *  Jesus  only.' 

1.  The  solitary  Saviour. 

The  disciples  are  left  alone  with  the  divine  Saviour. 
,1.  He  is  alone  in  His  nature.    '  Son  of  God.' 

2.  He  is  alone  in  the  sinlessness  of  His  manhood. 
'My  Beloved  Son  I' 

3.  He  is  alone  as  God's  Voice  to  men.    •  Hear  Him  I ' 
The  solitary  Saviour,  because  sufficient.     •  Thou,  O 

Christ,  art  all  I  want.* 
Sufficient,  too,  for  ever. 

u 


12  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [oh.ix. 

His  life  is  eternal. 

His  love  is  eternal. 

The  power  of  His  Cross  is  eternal. 

II.  The  vanishing  witnesses. 

1.  The  connection  of  the  past  with  Christ.  The 
authority  of  the  two  representatives  of  the  Old 
Covenant  was  only  (a)  derived  and  subordinate;  (6) 
prophetic ;  (c)  transient. 

2.  The  thought  may  be  widened  into  that  of  the 
relation  of  all  teachers  and  guides  to  Jesus  Christ. 

3.  The  two  witness  to  the  relation  of  the  unseen 
world  to  Jesus  Christ. 

(a)  Its  inhabitants  are  undying. 

(6)  Are  subject  to  the  sway  of  Jesus. 

(c)  Are  expectantly  waiting  a  glorious  future. 

4.  They  witness  to  the  central  point  of  Christ's  work 
— *  His  decease.'  This  great  event  is  the  key  to  the 
world's  history. 

III.  The  waiting  disciples. 

1.  What  Christian  life  should  be.  ,  Giving  Him  our 
sole  trust  and  allegiance. 

(a)  Seeing  Him  in  all  things. 

(6)  Constant  communion.    •  Abide  in  Mei,* 

(c)  Using  everything  as  helpc  lo  Him. 

2.  What  Christian  death  may  become^ 


CHRIST'S  LAMENT  OVER  OUR  FAITHLESSNESS 

'  He  answereth  him  and  saith,  O  faithless  generation,  how  long  ehall  I  be  with 
you  ?  how  long  shall  I  suflfer  you  ?  '—Mark  ix.  19. 

There  is  a  very  evident,  and,  I  think,  intentional 
contrast  between  the  two  scenes,  of  the  Transfigura- 
tion, and  of  this  healing  of  the  maniac  boy.  And  in 
nothing  is  the  contrast  more  marked  than  in  the 
demeanour  of  these  enfeebled  and  unbelieving  Apostles, 
as  contrasted  with  the  rapture  of  devotion  of  the  other 
three,  and  with  the  lowly  submission  and  faith  of 
Moses  and  Elias.  Perhaps,  too,  the  difference  between 
the  calm  serenity  of  the  mountain,  and  the  hell- 
tortured  misery  of  the  plain — between  the  converse 
with  the  sainted  perfected  dead,  and  the  converse  with 
their  unworthy  successors  —  made  Christ  feel  more 
sharply  and  poignantly  than  He  ordinarily  did  His 
disciples'  slowness  of  apprehension  and  want  of  faith. 
At  any  rate,  it  does  strike  one  as  remarkable  that  the 
only  occasion  on  which  there  came  from  His  lips  any- 
thing that  sounded  like  impatience  and  a  momentary 
flash  of  indignation  was,  when  in  sharpest  contrast 
with  '  This  is  my  beloved  Son :  hear  Him,'  He  had  to 
come  down  from  the  mountain  to  meet  the  devil-pos- 
sessed boy,  the  useless  agony  of  the  father,  the  sneer- 
ing faces  of  the  scribes,  and  the  impotence  of  the 
disciples.  Looking  on  all  this.  He  turns  to  His  fol- 
lowers— for  it  is  to  the  Apostles  that  the  text  is  spoken, 
and  not  to  the  crowd  outside — with  this  most  remark- 
able exclamation :  '  O  faithless  generation !  how  long 
ehall  I  be  with  you  ?  how  long  shall  I  suffer  you  ? ' 
Now,  I  said  that  these  words  at  first  sight  looked 

IS 


14  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

almost  like  a  momentary  flash  of  indignation,  as  if  for 
once  a  spot  had  come  on  His  pallid  cheek — a  spot  of 
anger — but  I  do  not  think  that  we  shall  find  it  so  if  we 
look  a  little  more  closely. 

The  first  thing  that  seems  to  be  in  the  words  is  not 
anger,  indeed,  but  a  very  distinct  and  very  pathetic 
expression  of  Christ's  infinite  pain,  because  of  man's 
faithlessness.  The  element  of  personal  sorrow  is  most 
obvious  here.  It  is  not  only  that  He  is  sad  for  their 
sakes  that  they  are  so  unreceptive,  and  He  can  do  so 
little  for  them — I  shall  have  something  to  say  about  that 
presently — but  that  He  feels  for  Himself,  just  as  we  do 
in  our  poor  humble  measure,  the  chilling  effect  of  an 
atmosphere  where  there  is  no  sympathy.  All  that 
ever  the  teachers  and  guides  and  leaders  of  the  world 
have  in  this  respect  had  to  bear — all  the  misery  of  open- 
ing out  their  hearts  in  the  frosty  air  of  unbelief  and 
rejection — Christ  endured.  All  that  men  have  ever  felt, 
of  how  hard  it  is  to  keep  on  working  when  not  a  soul 
understands  them,  when  not  a  single  creature  believes 
in  them,  when  there  is  no  one  that  will  accept  their 
message,  none  that  will  give  them  credit  for  pure 
motives — Jesus  Christ  had  to  feel,  and  that  in  an  alto- 
gether singular  degree.  There  never  was  such  a  lonely 
soul  on  this  earth  as  His,  just  because  there  never  was 
one  so  pure  and  loving.  '  The  little  hills  rejoice  together, 
as  the  Psalm  says,  *  on  every  side,'  but  the  great  Alpine 
peak  is  alone  there,  away  up  amongst  the  cold  and  the 
snows.  Thus  lived  the  solitary  Christ,  the  uncompre- 
hended  Christ,  the  unaccepted  Christ.  Let  us  see  in 
this  exclamation  of  His  how  humanly,  and  yet  how 
divinely.  He  felt  the  loneliness  to  which  His  love  and 
purity  condemned  Him. 

The  plain  felt  soul-chilling  after  the  blessed  com- 


V.19]  CHRIST'S  LAMENT  15 

munion  of  the  mountain.  There  was  such  a  difference 
between  Moses  and  Elias  and  the  voice  that  said,  '  This 
is  My  beloved  Son :  hear  Him/  and  the  disbelief  and 
slowness  of  spiritual  apprehension  of  the  people  down 
below  there,  that  no  wonder  that  for  once  the  pain 
that  He  generally  kept  absolutely  down  and  silent, 
broke  the  bounds  even  of  His  restraint,  and  shaped  for 
itself  this  pathetic  utterance :  *  How  long  shall  I  be 
with  you  ?  how  long  shall  I  suffer  you  ? ' 

Dear  friends,  here  is  *  a  little  window  through  which 
we  may  see  a  great  matter '  if  we  will  only  think  of 
how  all  that  solitude,  and  all  that  sorrow  of  uncom- 
prehended  aims,  was  borne  lovingly  and  patiently, 
right  away  on  to  the  very  end,  for  every  one  of  us.  I 
know  that  there  are  many  of  the  aspects  of  Christ's 
life  in  which  Christ's  griefs  tell  more  on  the  popular 
apprehension  ;  but  I  do  not  know  that  there  is  one  in 
which  the  title  of  '  The  Man  of  Sorrows '  is  to  all  deeper 
thinking  more  pathetically  vindicated  than  in  this — 
the  solitude  of  the  uncomprehended  and  the  unaccepted 
Christ  and  His  pain  at  His  disciples'  faithlessness. 

And  then  do  not  let  us  forget  that  in  this  short  !/ 
sharp  cry  of  anguish — for  it  is  that — there  may  be 
detected  by  the  listening  ear  not  only  the  tone  of  per- 
sonal hurt,  but  the  tone  of  disappointed  and  thwarted 
love.  Because  of  their  unbelief  He  knew  that  they 
could  not  receive  what  He  desired  to  give  them.  We 
find  Him  more  than  once  in  His  life,  hemmed  in, 
hindered,  baulked  of  His  purpose,  thwarted,  as  I  may 
say,  in  His  design,  simply  because  there  was  no  one  with 
a  heart  open  to  receive  the  rich  treasure  that  He  was 
ready  to  pour  out.  He  had  to  keep  it  locked  up  in  His 
own  spirit,  else  it  would  have  been  wasted  and  spilled 
upon  the  ground.      '  He  could  do  no  mighty  worka 


16  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

there  because  of  their  unbelief ;  and  here  He  is  stand- 
ing in  the  midst  of  the  men  that  knew  Him  best,  that 
understood  Him  most,  that  were  nearest  to  Him  in 
sympathy;  but  even  they  were  not  ready  for  all  this 
wealth  of  affection,  all  this  infinitude  of  blessing,  with 
which  His  heart  is  charged.  They  offered  no  place  to 
put  it.  They  shut  up  the  narrow  cranny  through 
which  it  might  have  come,  and  so  He  has  to  turn 
from  them,  bearing  it  away  unbestowed,  like  some 
man  who  goes  out  in  the  morning  with  his  seed-basket 
full,  and  finds  the  whole  field  where  he  would  fain 
have  sown  covered  already  with  springing  weeds  or 
encumbered  with  hard  rock,  and  has  to  bring  back 
the  germs  of  possible  life  to  bless  and  fertilise  some 
other  soil.  'He  that  goeth  forth  weeping,  bearing 
precious  seed,  shall  doubtless  come  again  with  joy'; 
but  He  that  comes  back  weeping,  bearing  the  precious 
seed  that  He  found  no  field  to  sow  in,  knows  a  deeper 
sadness,  which  has  in  it  no  prophecy  of  joy.  It  is 
wonderfully  pathetic  and  beautiful,  I  think,  to  see  how 
Jesus  Christ  knew  the  pains  of  wounded  love  that 
cannot  get  expressed  because  there  is  not  heart  to 
receive  it. 

Here  I  would  remark,  too,  before  I  go  to  another 
point,  that  these  two  elements — that  of  personal  sorrow 
and  that  of  disappointed  love  and  baulked  purposes — 
continue  still,  and  are  represented  as  in  some  measure 
felt  by  Him  now.  It  was  to  disciples  that  He  said,  *  O 
faithless  generation ! '  He  did  not  mean  to  charge 
them  with  the  entire  absence  of  all  confidence,  but  He 
did  mean  to  declare  that  their  poor,  feeble  faith,  such 
as  it  was,  was  not  worth  naming  in  comparison  with 
the  abounding  mass  of  their  unbelief.  There  was  one 
spark  of  light  in  them,  and  there  was  also  a  great 


V.  19]  CHRIST'S  LAMENT  17 

heap  of  green  wood  that  had  not  caught  the  flame 
and  only  smoked  instead  of  blazing.  And  so  He  said 
to  them, '  O  faithless  generation ! ' 

Ay,  and  if  He  came  down  here  amongst  us  now,  and 
went  through  the  professing  Christians  in  this  land,  to 
how  many  of  us — regard  being  had  to  the  feebleness 
of  our  confidence  and  the  strength  of  our  unbelief — 
He  would  have  to  say  the  same  thing,  *0  faithless 
generation ! ' 

The  version  of  that  clause  in  Matthew  and  Luke  adds 
a  significant  word, — *  faithless  and  perverse  generation.' 
The  addition  carries  a  grave  lesson,  as  teaching  us  that 
the  two  characteristics  are  inseparably  united;  that 
the  want  of  faith  is  morally  a  crime  and  sin;  that 
unbelief  is  at  once  the  most  tragic  manifestation  of 
man's  perverse  will,  and  also  in  its  turn  the  source  of 
still  more  obstinate  and  wide-spreading  evil.  Blindness 
to  His  light  and  rejection  of  His  love.  He  treats  as  the 
very  head  and  crown  of  sin.  Like  intertwining  snakes, 
the  loathly  heads  are  separate ;  but  the  slimy  convolu- 
tions are  twisted  indistinguishably  together,  and  all 
unbelief  has  in  it  the  nature  of  perversity,  as  all  per- 
versity has  in  it  the  nature  of  unbelief.  '  He  will  con- 
vince the  world  of  sin,  because  they  believe  not  on  Me.' 

May  we  venture  to  say,  as  we  have  already  hinted, 
that  all  this  pain  is  in  some  mysterious  way  still 
inflicted  on  His  loving  heart?  Can  it  be  that  every 
time  we  are  guilty  of  unbelieving,  unsympathetic  re- 
jection of  His  love,  we  send  a  pang  of  real  pain  and 
sorrow  into  the  heart  of  Christ?  It  is  a  strange, 
solemn  thought.  There  are  many  difficulties  which 
start  up,  if  we  at  all  accept  it.  But  still  it  does  appear 
as  if  we  could  scarcely  believe  in  His  perpetual  man- 
hood, or  think  of  His  love  as  being  in  any  real  sense  a 
VOL.  II.  B 


18  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

human  love,  without  believing  that  He  sorrows  when 
we  sin ;  and  that  we  can  grieve,  and  wound,  and  cause 
to  recoil  upon  itself,  as  it  were,  and  close  up  that 
loving  and  gracious  Spirit  that  delights  in  being  met 
with  answering  love.  If  we  may  venture  to  take  our 
love  as  in  any  measure  analogous  to  His — and  unless 
we  do.  His  love  is  to  us  a  word  without  meaning — 
we  may  believe  that  it  is  so.  Do  not  we  know  that 
the  purer  our  love,  and  the  more  it  has  purified  us, 
the  more  sensitive  it  becomes,  even  while  the  less 
suspicious  it  becomes  ?  Is  not  the  purest,  most  un- 
selfish, highest  love,  that  by  which  the  least  failure  in 
response  is  felt  most  painfully?  Though  there  be 
no  anger,  and  no  change  in  the  love,  still  there  is  a 
pang  where  there  is  an  inadequate  perception,  or  an 
unworthy  reception,  of  it.  And  Scripture  seems  to 
countenance  the  belief  that  Divine  Love,  too,  may 
know  something,  in  some  mysterious  fashion,  like  that 
feeling,  when  it  warns  us,  '  Grieve  not  the  Holy  Spirit 
of  God,  whereby  ye  are  sealed  unto  the  day  of  redemp- 
tion.' So  we  may  venture  to  say.  Grieve  not  the  Christ 
of  God,  who  redeems  us ;  and  remember  that  we  grieve 
Him  most  when  we  will  not  let  Him  pour  His  love  upon 
us,  but  turn  a  sullen,  unresponsive  unbelief  towards  His 
pleading  grace,  as  some  glacier  shuts  out  the  sunshine 
from  the  mountain-side  with  its  thick-ribbed  ice. 

Another  thought,  which  seems  to  me  to  be  expressed 
in  this  wonderful  exclamation  of  our  Lord's,  is — that  this 
faithlessness  bound  Christ  to  earth,  and  kept  Him  here. 
As  there  is  not  anger,  but  only  pain,  so  there  is  also, 
I  think,  not  exactly  impatience,  but  a  desire  to  depart, 
coupled  with  the  feeling  that  He  cannot  leave  them  till 
they  have  grown  stronger  in  faith.  And  that  feeling  is 
increased  by  the  experience  of  their  utter  helplessness 


V.19]  CHRIST'S  LAMENT  19 

and  shameful  discomfiture  during  His  brief  absence. 
They  had  shown  that  they  were  not  fit  to  be  trusted 
alone.  He  had  been  away  for  a  day  up  in  the  mountain 
there,  and  though  they  did  not  build  an  altar  to  any 
golden  calf,  like  their  ancestors,  when  their  leader  was 
absent,  still  when  He  comes  back  He  finds  things  all 
gone  wrong  because  of  the  few  hours  of  His  absence. 
What  would  they  do  if  He  were  to  go  away  from  them 
altogether  ?  They  would  never  be  able  to  stand  it  at 
all.  It  is  impossible  that  He  should  leave  them  thus — 
raw,  immature.  The  plant  has  not  yet  grown  suffi- 
ciently strong  to  take  away  the  prop  round  which  it 
climbed.  •  How  long  must  I  be  with  you  ? '  says  the 
loving  Teacher,  who  is  prepared  ungrudgingly  to  give 
His  slow  scholars  as  much  time  as  they  need  to  learn 
their  lesson.  He  is  not  impatient,  but  He  desires  to 
finish  the  task ;  and  yet  He  is  ready  to  let  the  scholars' 
dulness  determine  the  duration  of  His  stay.  Surely 
that  is  wondrous  and  heart-touching  love,  that  Christ 
should  let  their  slowness  measure  the  time  during 
which  He  should  linger  here,  and  refrain  from  the 
glory  which  He  desired.  We  do  not  know  all  the 
reasons  which  determined  the  length  of  our  Lord's  life 
upon  earth,  but  this  was  one  of  them, — that  He  could 
not  go  away  until  He  had  left  these  men  strong  enough 
to  stand  by  themselves,  and  to  lay  the  foundations  of 
the  Church.  Therefore  He  yielded  to  the  plea  of  their 
very  faithlessness  and  backwardness,  and  with  this 
wonderful  word  of  condescension  and  appeal  bade 
them  say  for  how  many  more  days  He  must  abide  in 
the  plain,  and  turn  His  back  on  the  glories  that  had 
gleamed  for  a  moment  on  the  mountain  of  trans- 
figuration. 
In  this  connection,  too,  is  it  not  striking  to  notice 


20  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

how  long  His  short  life  and  ministry  appeared  to  our 
Lord  Himself  ?  There  is  to  me  something  very  pathetic 
in  that  question  He  addressed  to  one  of  His  Apostles 
near  the  end  of  His  pilgrimage  :  •  Have  I  been  so  long 
time  with  you,  and  yet  hast  thou  not  known  Me  ? '  It 
was  not  so  very  long — three  years,  perhaps,  at  the 
outside — and  much  less,  if  we  take  the  shortest  com- 
putation ;  and  yet  to  Him  it  had  been  long.  The  days 
had  seemed  to  go  tardily.  He  longed  that  the  'fire' 
which  He  came  to  fling  on  earth  were  already '  kindled,' 
and  the  moments  seemed  to  drop  so  slowly  from  the 
urn  of  time.  But  neither  the  holy  longing  to  consum- 
mate His  work  by  the  mystery  of  His  passion,  to  which 
more  than  one  of  His  words  bear  witness,  nor  the  not 
less  holy  longing  to  be  glorified  with  *  the  glory  which 
He  had  with  the  Father  before  the  world  was,'  which 
we  may  reverently  venture  to  suppose  in  Him,  could 
be  satisfied  till  his  slow  scholars  were  wiser,  and  His 
feeble  followers  stronger. 

And  then  again,  here  we  get  a  glimpse  into  the  depth 
of  Christ's  patient  forbearance.  We  might  read  these 
other  words  of  our  text,  •  How  long  shall  I  suffer  you  ? ' 
with  such  an  intonation  as  to  make  them  almost  a 
threat  that  the  limits  of  forbearance  would  soon  be 
reached,  and  that  He  was  not  going  to  *  suffer  them ' 
much  longer.  Some  commentators  speak  of  them  as 
expressing  *  holy  indignation,'  and  I  quite  believe  that 
there  is  such  a  thing,  and  that  on  other  occasions  it 
was  plainly  spoken  in  Christ's  words.  But  I  fail  to 
catch  the  tone  of  it  here.  To  me  this  plaintive  question 
has  the  very  opposite  of  indignation  in  its  ring.  It 
sounds  rather  like  a  pledge  that  as  long  as  they  need 
forbearance  they  will  get  it ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  a 
question  of  *  how  long '  that  is  to  be.      It  implies  the 


V.19]  CHRIST'S  LAMENT  21 

inexhaustible  riches  and  resources  of  His  patient 
mercy.  And  Oh,  dear  brethren !  that  endless  forbear- 
ance is  the  only  refuge  and  ground  of  hope  we  have. 
His  perfect  charity  '  is  not  soon  angry ;  beareth  all 
things,'  and  '  never  f aileth.'  To  it  we  have  all  to  make 
the  appeal — 

'  Though  I  have  most  unthankful  been 
Of  all  that  e'er  Thy  grace  received ; 
Ten  thousand  times  Thy  goodness  seen. 
Ten  thousand  times  Thy  goodness  grieved ; 
Yet,  Lord,  the  chief  of  sinners  spare.' 

And,  thank  God !  we  do  not  make  our  appeal  in  vain. 

There  is  rebuke  in  His  question,  but  how  tender  a 
rebuke  it  is !  He  rebukes  without  anger.  He  names 
the  fault  plainly.  He  shows  distinctly  His  sorrow,  and 
does  not  hide  the  strain  on  His  forbearance.  That  is 
His  way  of  cure  for  His  servants'  faithlessness.  It  was 
His  way  on  earth ;  it  is  His  way  in  heaven.  To  us,  too, 
comes  the  loving  rebuke  of  this  question,  *  How  long 
shall  I  suffer  you  ? ' 

Thank  God  that  our  answer  may  be  cast  into  the 
words  of  His  own  promise :  '  I  say  not  unto  thee,  until 
seven  times ;  but  until  seventy  times  seven.'  *  Bear 
with  me  till  Thou  hast  perfected  me ;  and  then  bear  me 
to  Thyself,  that  I  may  be  with  Thee  for  ever,  and  grieve 
Thy  love  no  more.'  So  may  it  be,  for  'with  Him  is 
plenteous  redemption,'  and  His  forbearing  'mercy 
endureth  for  ever.' 


THE  OMNIPOTENCE  OF  FAITH 

'  Jesus  eaid  unto  him,  If  thou  canst  believe,  all  things  are  possible  to  him  that 
belieTeth.'— Mabe  ix.  23. 

The  necessity  and  power  of  faith  is  the  prominent 
lesson  of  this  narrative  of  the  healing  of  a  demoniac 
boy,  especially  as  it  is  told  by  the  Evangelist  Mark. 
The  lesson  is  enforced  by  the  actions  of  all  the  persons 
in  the  group,  except  the  central  figure,  Christ.  The 
disciples  could  not  cast  out  the  demon,  and  incur  Christ's 
plaintive  rebuke,  which  is  quite  as  much  sorrow  as 
blame :  •  O  faithless  generation !  how  long  shall  I  be 
with  you  ?  how  long  shall  I  suffer  you  ? '  And  then,  in 
the  second  part  of  the  story,  the  poor  father,  heart-sick 
with  hope  deferred,  comes  into  the  foreground.  The 
whole  interest  is  shifted  to  him,  and  more  prominence 
is  given  to  the  process  by  which  his  doubting  spirit  is 
led  to  trust,  than  to  that  by  which  his  son  is  healed. 

There  is  something  very  beautiful  and  tender  in 
Christ's  way  of  dealing  with  him,  so  as  to  draw  him  to 
faith.  He  begins  with  the  question,  'How  long  is  it 
ago  since  this  came  unto  him  ? '  and  so  induces  him  to 
tell  all  the  story  of  the  long  sorrow,  that  his  burdened 
heart  might  get  some  ease  in  speaking,  and  also  that 
the  feeling  of  the  extremity  of  the  necessity,  deepened 
by  the  very  dwelling  on  all  his  boy's  cruel  sufferings, 
might  help  him  to  the  exercise  of  faith.  Truly  'He 
knew  what  was  in  man,'  and  with  tenderness  born  of 
perfect  knowledge  and  perfect  love.  He  dealt  with  sore 
and  sorrowful  hearts.  This  loving  artifice  of  consola- 
tion, which  drew  all  the  story  from  willing  lips,  is  one 
more  little  token  of  His  gentle  mode  of  healing.    And 

22 


7.23]    THE  OMNIPOTENCE  OF  FAITH     23 

it  is  profoundly  wise,  as  well  as  most  tender.  Get  a 
man  thoroughly  to  know  his  need,  and  vividly  to  feel 
his  helpless  misery,  and  you  have  carried  him  a  long 
way  towards  laying  hold  of  the  refuge  from  it. 

How  wise  and  how  tender  the  question  is,  is  proved 
by  the  long  circumstantial  answer,  in  which  the  pent- 
up  trouble  of  a  father's  heart  pours  itself  out  at  the 
tiny  opening  which  Christ  has  made  for  it.  He  does  not 
content  himself  with  the  simple  answer,  *0f  a  child,' 
but  with  the  garrulousness  of  sorrow  that  has  found  a 
listener  that  sympathises,  goes  on  to  tell  all  the  misery, 
partly  that  he  may  move  his  hearer's  pity,  but  more  in 
sheer  absorption  with  the  bitterness  that  had  poisoned 
the  happiness  of  his  home  all  these  years.  And  then 
his  graphic  picture  of  his  child's  state  leads  him  to  the 
plaintive  cry,  in  which  his  love  makes  common  cause 
with  his  son,  and  unites  both  in  one  wretchedness. 
'  If  thou  canst  do  anything,  have  compassion  on  ua  and 
help  us* 

Our  Lord  answers  that  appeal  in  the  words  of  our 
text.  There  are  some  difficulties  in  the  rendering  and 
exact  force  of  these  words  with  which  I  do  not  mean 
to  trouble  you.  We  may  accept  the  rendering  as  in 
our  Bible,  with  a  slight  variation  in  the  punctuation. 
If  we  take  the  first  clause  as  an  incomplete  sentence, 
and  put  a  break  between  it  and  the  last  words,  the 
meaning  will  stand  out  more  clearly :  *  If  thou  canst 
believe — all  things  are  possible  to  him  that  believeth.' 
We  might  paraphrase  it  somewhat  thus :  Did  you  say 

*  If  thou  canst  do  anything  '  ?  That  is  the  wrong  *  if.' 
There  is  no  doubt  about  that.  The  only  *if'  in  the 
question  is  another  one,  not  about  me,  but  about  you. 

•  If  thou  canst  believe — '  and  then  the  incomplete  sen- 
tence might  be  supposed  to  be  ended  with  some  such 


24  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

phrase  as  'That  is  the  only  question.  If  thou  canst 
believe — all  depends  on  that.  If  thou  canst  believe,  thy 
son  will  be  healed,'  or  the  like.  Then,  in  order  to 
explain  and  establish  what  He  had  meant  in  the  half- 
finished  saying,  He  adds  the  grand,  broad  statement, 
on  which  the  demand  for  the  man's  faith  as  the  only 
condition  of  his  wish  being  answered  reposes:  'All 
things  are  possible  to  him  that  believeth.' 

That  wide  statement  is  meant,  I  suppose,  for  the 
disciples  as  well  as  for  the  father.  'AH  things  are 
possible'  both  in  reference  to  benefits  to  be  received, 
and  in  reference  to  power  to  be  exercised.  'If  thou 
canst  believe,  poor  suppliant  father,  thou  shalt  have 
thy  desire.  If  thou  canst  believe,  poor  devil-ridden 
son,  thou  shalt  be  set  free.  If  ye  can  believe,  poor 
baffled  disciples,  you  will  be  masters  of  the  powers 
of  evil.* 

Do  you  remember  another  *if'  with  which  Christ 
was  once  besought?  'There  came  a  leper  to  Him, 
beseeching  Him,  and  kneeling  down  to  Him,  and  saying 
unto  Him,  If  Thou  wilt,  Thou  canst  make  me  clean.' 
In  some  respects  that  man  had  advanced  beyond  the 
father  in  our  story,  for  he  had  no  doubt  at  all  about 
Christ's  power,  and  he  spoke  to  Him  as  '  Lord.'  But 
he  was  somehow  not  quite  sure  about  Christ's  heart  of 
pity.  On  the  other  hand,  the  man  in  our  narrative  has 
no  doubt  about  Christ's  compassion.  He  may  have  seen 
something  of  His  previous  miracles,  or  there  may  still 
have  been  lying  on  our  Lord's  countenance  some  of  the 
lingering  glory  of  the  Transfiguration — as  indeed  the 
narrative  seems  to  hint,  in  its  emphatic  statement  of 
the  astonishment  and  reverential  salutations  of  the 
crowd  when  He  approached — or  the  tenderness  of  our 
Lord's  listening  sympathy  may  have  made  him  feel 


V.23]    THE  OMNIPOTENCE  OF  FAITH     25 

sure  of  His  willingness  to  help.  At  any  rate,  the  leper's 
•if  has  answered  itself  for  him.  His  own  lingering 
doubt,  Christ  waives  aside  as  settled.  His  'if  is 
answered  for  ever.  So  these  two  *  if s '  in  reference  to 
Christ  are  beyond  all  controversy ;  His  power  is  certain, 
and  His  love.  The  third  'if  remains,  the  one  that 
refers  to  us — •  If  thou  canst  believe' ;  all  hinges  on  that, 
for  '  all  things  are  possible  to  him  that  believeth.' 

Here,  then,  we  have  our  Lord  telling  us  that  faith 
is  omnipotent.  ,That  is  a  bold  word;  He  puts  no 
limitations;  'all  things  are  possible.'  I  think  that  to 
get  the  true  force  of  these  words  we  should  put  along- 
side of  them  the  other  saying  of  our  Lord's, '  With  God 
all  things  are  possible.'  That  is  the  foundation  of  the 
grand  prerogative  in  our  text.  The  power  of  faith  is 
the  consequence  of  the  power  of  God.  All  things  are 
possible  to  Him ;  therefore,  all  things  are  possible  to 
me,  believing  in  Him.  If  we  translate  that  into  more 
abstract  words,  it  just  comes  to  the  principle  that  the 
power  of  faith  consists  in  its  taking  hold  of  the  power 
of  God.  It  is  omnipotent  because  it  knits  us  to  Omni- 
potence. Faith  is  nothing  in  itself,  but  it  is  that  which 
attaches  us  to  God,  and  then  His  power  flows  into  us. 
Screw  a  pipe  on  to  a  water  main  and  turn  a  handle,  and 
out  flows  the  water  through  the  pipe  and  fills  the  empty 
vessel.  Faith  is  as  impotent  in  itself  as  the  hollow 
water  pipe  is,  only  it  is  the  way  by  which  the  connection 
is  established  between  the  fulness  of  God  and  the 
emptiness  of  man.  By  it  divinity  flows  into  humanity, 
and  we  have  a  share  even  in  the  divine  Omnipotence. 
•My  strength  is  made  perfect  in  weakness.'  In  itself 
nothing,  it  yet  grasps  God,  and  therefore  by  it  we  are 
strong,  because  by  it  we  lay  hold  of  His  strength. 
Great  and  wonderful  is  the  grace  thus  given  to  us,  poor, 


26  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

struggling,  sinful  men,  that,  looking  up  to  the  solemn 
throne,  where  He  sits  in  His  power,  we  have  a  right  to 
be  sure  that  a  true  participation  in  His  greatness  is 
granted  to  us,  if  once  our  hearts  are  fastened  to  Him. 

And  there  is  nothing  arbitrary  nor  mysterious  in  this 
flowing  of  divine  power  into  our  hearts  on  condition  of 
our  faith.  It  is  the  condition  of  possessing  Christ,  and 
in  Christ,  salvation,  righteousness,  and  strength,  not  by 
any  artificial  appointment,  but  in  the  very  nature  of 
things.  There  is  no  other  way  possible  by  which  God 
could  give  men  what  they  receive  through  their  faith, 
except  only  their  faith. 

In  all  trust  in  God  there  are  two  elements :  a  sense  of 
need  and  of  evil  and  weakness,  and  a  confidence  more 
or  less  unshaken  and  strong  in  Him,  His  love  and  power 
and  all-sufiiciency ;  and  unless  both  of  these  two  be 
in  the  heart,  it  is,  in  the  nature  of  things,  impossible, 
and  will  be  impossible  to  all  eternity,  that  purity  and 
strength  and  peace  and  joy,  and  all  the  blessings  which 
Christ  delights  to  give  to  faith,  should  ever  be  ours. 

Unbelief,  distrust  of  Him,  which  separates  us  from 
Him  and  closes  the  heart  fast  against  His  grace,  must 
cut  us  off  from  that  which  it  does  not  feel  that  it  needs, 
nor  cares  to  receive;  and  must  interpose  a  non-con- 
ducting medium  between  us  and  the  electric  influences 
of  His  might.  When  Christ  was  on  earth,  man's  want 
of  faith  dammed  back  His  miracle-working  power, 
and  paralysed  His  healing  energy.  How  strange 
that  paradox  sounds  at  first  hearing,  which  brings 
together  Omnipotence  and  impotence,  and  makes  men 
able  to  counter-work  the  loving  power  of  Christ.  *  He 
could  there  do  no  mighty  work.'  The  Evangelist  intends 
a  paradox,  for  he  uses  two  kindred  words  to  express  the 
inability  and  the  mighty  work;  and  we  might  para- 


V.23]    THE  OMNIPOTENCE  OF  FAITH    27 

phrase  the  saying  so  as  to  bring  out  the  seeming  con- 
tradiction :  '  He  there  had  no  power  to  do  any  work  of 
power.'  The  same  awful,  and  in  some  sense  mysterious, 
power  of  limiting  and  restraining  the  influx  of  His  love 
belongs  to  unbelief  still,  whether  it  take  the  shape  of 
active  rejection,  or  only  of  careless,  passive  non-recep- 
tion. For  faith  makes  us  partakers  of  divine  power 
by  the  very  necessity  of  the  case,  and  that  power  can 
attach  itself  to  nothing  else.  So,  *  if  thou  canst  believe, 
all  things  are  possible  to  him  that  believeth.' 

Still  further,  we  may  observe  that  there  is  involved 
here  the  principle  that  our  faith  determines  the 
amount  of  our  power.  That  is  true  in  reference  to  our 
own  individual  religious  life,  and  it  is  true  in  reference 
to  special  capacities  for  Christ's  service.  Let  me  say  a 
word  or  two  about  each  of  these.  They  run  into  each 
other,  of  course,  for  the  truest  power  of  service  is  found 
in  the  depth  and  purity  of  our  own  personal  religion, 
and  on  the  other  hand  our  individual  Christian  character 
will  never  be  deep  or  pure  unless  we  are  working  for 
the  Master.  Still,  for  our  present  purpose,  these  two 
inseparable  aspects  of  the  one  Christian  life  may  be 
separated  in  thought. 

As  to  the  former,  then,  the  measure  of  my  trust  in 
Christ  is  the  measure  of  all  the  rest  of  my  Christian 
character.  /  I  shall  have  just  as  much  purity,  just  as 
much  peace,  just  as  much  wisdom  or  gentleness  or 
love  or  courage  or  hope,  as  my  faith  is  capable  of 
taking  up,  and,  so  to  speak,  holding  in  solution.  The 
'  point  of  saturation '  in  a  man's  soul,  the  quantity 
of  God's  grace  which  he  is  capable  of  absorbing,  is 
accurately  measured  by  his  faith.  How  much  do  I 
trust  God?  That  will  settle  how  much  I  can  take  in 
of  God. 


28  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.  ix. 

So  much  as  we  believe^  so  much  can  we  contain.  So 
much  as  we  can  contain,  so  much  shall  we  receive. 
And  in  the  very  act  of  receiving  the  'portion  of  our 
Father's  goods  that  falleth'  to  us,  we  shall  feel  that 
there  is  a  boundless  additional  portion  ready  to  come 
as  soon  as  we  are  ready  for  it,  and  thereby  we  shall 
be  driven  to  larger  desires  and  a  wider  opening  of  the 
lap  of  faith,  which  will  ever  be  answered  by  '  good 
measure,  pressed  together  and  running  over,  measured 
into  our  bosoms.'  But  there  will  be  no  waste  by  the 
bestowment  of  what  we  cannot  take.  'According  to 
your  faith,  be  it  unto  you.'  That  is  the  accurate 
thermometer  which  measures  the  temperature  of  our 
spiritual  state.  It  is  like  the  steam-gauge  outside  the 
boiler,  which  tells  to  a  fraction  the  pressure  of  steam 
within,  and  so  the  power  which  can  at  the  moment  be 
exerted. 

May  I  make  a  very  simple,  close  personal  application 
of  this  thought?  We  have  as  much  religious  life  as 
we  desire ;  that  is,  we  have  as  much  as  our  faith  can 
take.  There  is  the  reason  why  such  hosts  of  so-called 
Christians  have  such  poor,  feeble  Christianity.  We 
dare  not  say  of  any,  '  They  have  a  name  to  live,  and 
are  dead.'  There  is  only  one  Eye  who  can  tell  when 
the  heart  has  ceased  to  beat.  But  we  may  say  that 
there  are  a  mournful  number  of  people  who  call  them- 
selves Christians,  who  look  so  like  dead  that  no  eye  but 
Christ's  can  tell  the  difference.  They  are  in  a  syncope 
that  will  be  death  soon,  unless  some  mighty  power 
rouse  them. 

And  then,  how  many  more  of  us  there  are,  not  so 
bad  as  that,  but  still  feeble  and  languid,  whose  Chris- 
tian history  is  a  history  of  weakness,  while  God's 
power  is  open  before  us,  of  starving  in  the  midst  of 


T.  23]    THE  OMNIPOTENCE  OF  FAITH     29 

abundance,  broken  only  by  moments  of  firmer  faith, 
and  so  of  larger,  happier  possession,  that  make  the 
poverty-stricken  ordinary  days  appear  ten  times  more 
poverty-stricken.  The  channel  lies  dry,  a  waste  chaos 
of  white  stones  and  driftwood  for  long  months,  and 
only  for  an  hour  or  two  after  the  clouds  have  burst 
on  the  mountains  does  the  stream  fill  it  from  bank 
to  bank.  Do  not  many  of  us  remember  moments  of 
a  far  deeper  and  more  earnest  trust  in  Christ  than 
marks  our  ordinary  days?  If  such  moments  were 
continuous,  should  not  we  be  the  happy  possessors  of 
beauties  of  character  and  spiritual  power,  such  as 
would  put  our  present  selves  utterly  to  shame?  And 
why  are  they  not  continuous?  Why  are  our  posses- 
sions in  God  so  small,  our  power  so  weak?  Dear 
friends !  *  ye  are  not  straitened  in  yourselves.'  The  only 
reason  for  defective  spiritual  progress  and  character 
is  defective  faith. 

Then  look  at  this  same  principle  as  it  affects  our 
faculties  for  Christian  service.  There,  too,  it  is  true 
that  all  things  are  possible  to  him  that  believeth.  The 
saying  had  an  application  to  the  disciples  who  stood 
by,  half-ashamed  and  half-surprised  at  their  failure 
to  cast  out  the  demon,  as  well  as  to  the  father  in  his 
agony  of  desire  and  doubt.  For  them  it  meant  that 
the  measure  of  Christian  service  was  mainly  determined 
by  the  measure  of  their  faith.  It  would  scarcely  be  an 
exaggeration  to  say  that  in  Christ's  service  a  man  can 
do  pretty  nearly  what  he  believes  he  can  do,  if  his 
confidence  is  built,  not  on  himself,  but  on  Christ. 

If  those  nine  Apostles,  waiting  there  for  their  Master, 
had  thought  they  could  cast  out  the  devil  from  the 
boy,  do  you  not  think  that  they  could  have  done  it  ?  I 
do  not  mean  to  say  that  rash  presumption,  undertaking 


30  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

in  levity  and  self-confidence  unsuitable  kinds  of  work, 
will  be  honoured  with  success.  But  I  do  mean  to 
say  that,  in  the  line  of  our  manifest  duty,  the  extent 
to  which  we  can  do  Christ's  work  is  very  much  the 
extent  to  which  we  believe,  in  dependence  on  Him, 
that  wo  can  do  it.  If  we  once  make  up  our  minds 
that  we  shall  do  a  certain  thing  by  Christ's  help  and 
for  His  sake,  in  ninety  cases  out  of  a  hundred  the 
expectation  will  fulfil  itself,  and  we  shall  do  it.  *  Why 
could  not  we  cast  him  out  ? '  They  need  not  have  asked 
the  question.  '  Why  could  not  you  cast  him  out  ?  Why, 
because  you  did  not  think  you  could,  and  with  your 
timid  attempt,  making  an  experiment  which  you  were 
not  sure  would  succeed,  provoked  the  failure  which 
you  feared.'  The  Church  has  never  believed  enough  in 
its  Christ-given  power  to  cast  out  demons.  We  have 
never  been  confident  enough  that  the  victory  was  in 
our  hands  if  we  knew  how  to  use  our  powers. 

The  same  thing  is  true  of  each  one  of  us.  Audacity 
and  presumption  are  humility  and  moderation,  if  only 
we  feel  that  *  our  sufficiency  is  of  God.'  *  I  can  do  all 
things '  is  the  language  of  simple  soberness,  if  we  go  on 
to  say  '  through  Christ  which  strengtheneth  me.* 

There  is  one  more  point,  drawn  from  these  words, 
viz.,  our  faith  can  only  take  hold  on  the  divine  pro- 
mises. Such  language  as  this  of  my  text  and  other 
kindred  sayings  of  our  Lord's  has  often  been  extended 
beyond  its  real  force,  and  pressed  into  the  service  of  a 
mistaken  enthusiasm,  for  want  of  observing  that  very 
plain  principle.  The  principle  of  our  text  has  reference 
to  outward  things  as  well  as  to  the  spiritual  life.  But 
there  are  great  exaggerations  and  misconceptions  as  to 
the  province  of  faith  in  reference  to  these  temporal 
things,  and  consequently  there  are  misconceptions  and 


V.  23]    THE  OMNIPOTENCE  OF  FAITH    31 

exaggerations  on  the  part  of  many  very  good  people 
as  to  the  province  of  prayer  in  regard  to  them. 

It  seems  to  me  that  we  shall  be  saved  from  these,  if 
we  distinctly  recognise  a  very  obvious  principle,  namely, 
that  'faith'  can  never  go  further  than  God's  clear 
promises,  and  that  whatever  goes  beyond  God's  word 
is  not  faith,  but  something  else  assuming  its  appearance. 

For  instance,  suppose  a  father  nowadays  were  to 
say :  •  My  child  is  sore  vexed  with  sickness.  I  long  for 
his  recovery.  I  believe  that  Christ  can  heal  him.  I 
believe  that  He  will.  I  pray  in  faith,  and  I  know  that 
I  shall  be  answered.'  Such  a  prayer  goes  beyond  the 
record.  Has  Christ  told  you  that  it  is  His  will  that 
your  child  shall  be  healed  ?  If  not,  how  can  you  pray 
in  faith  that  it  is  ?  You  may  pray  in  confidence  that 
he  will  be  healed,  but  such  confident  persuasion  is  not 
faith.  Faith  lays  hold  of  Christ's  distinct  declaration 
of  His  will,  but  such  confidence  is  only  grasping  a 
shadow,  your  own  wishes.  The  father  in  this  story 
was  entitled  to  trust,  because  Christ  told  him  that  his 
trust  was  the  condition  of  his  son's  being  healed.  So 
in  response  to  the  great  word  of  our  text,  the  man's 
faith  leaped  up  and  grasped  our  Lord's  promise,  with 
•  Lord,  I  believe.'  But  before  Christ  spoke,  his  desires, 
his  wistful  longing,  his  imploring  cry  for  help,  had  no 
warrant  to  pass  into  faith,  and  did  not  so  pass. 

Christ's  word  must  go  before  our  faith,  and  must 
supply  the  object  for  our  faith,  and  where  Christ  has 
not  spoken,  there  is  no  room  for  the  exercise  of  any 
faith,  except  the  faith, '  It  is  the  Lord ;  let  Him  do  what 
seemeth  to  Him  good.'  That  is  the  true  prayer  of  faith 
in  regard  to  all  matters  of  outward  providence  where 
we  have  no  distinct  word  of  God's  which  gives  unmis- 
takable indication  of  His  will.    The  'if  of  the  leper, 


32  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.  ix. 

which  has  no  place  in  the  spiritual  region,  where  we 
know  that  *  this  is  the  will  of  God,  even  our  sanctifica- 
tion,'  has  full  force  in  the  temporal  region,  where  we 
do  not  know  before  the  event  what  the  will  of  the 
Lord  is,  'If  Thou  wilt,  Thou  canst,'  is  there  our  best 
prayer. 

Wherever  a  distinct  and  unmistakable  promise  of 
God's  goes,  it  is  safe  for  faith  to  follow ;  but  to  outrun 
His  word  is  not  faith,  but  self-will,  and  meets  the 
deserved  rebuke, '  Should  it  be  according  to  thy  mind  ? ' 
There  are  unmistakable  promises  about  outward  things 
on  which  we  may  safely  build.  Let  us  confine  our 
expectations  within  the  limits  of  these,  and  turn  them 
into  the  prayer  of  faith,  so  shooting  back  whence  they 
came  His  winged  words,  'This  is  the  confidence  that 
we  have,  that  if  we  ask  anything  according  to  His  will 
He  heareth  us.'  Thus  coming  to  Him,  submitting  all 
our  wishes  in  regard  to  this  world  to  His  most  loving 
will,  and  widening  our  confidence  to  the  breadth  of 
His  great  and  loving  purpose  in  regard  to  our  own 
inward  life,  as  well  as  in  regard  to  our  practical  ser- 
vice. His  answer  will  ever  be,  '  Great  is  thy  faith ;  be  it 
unto  thee  even  as  thou  wilt.' 


UNBELIEVING  BELIEF 

'And  straightway  the  father  of  the  child  cried  out,  and  said  with  tears.  Lord,  1 
believe ;  help  Thou  mine  unbelief  .'—Mabk  ix.  24. 

We  owe  to  Mark's  Gospel  the  fullest  account  of  the 
pathetic  incident  of  the  healing  of  the  demoniac  boy. 
He  alone  gives  us  this  part  of  the  conversation  between 
our  Lord  and  the  afflicted  child's  father.  The  poor  man 
had  brought  his  child  to  the  disciples,  and  found  them 
unable  to  do  anything  with  him.  A  torrent  of  appeal 
breaks  from  his  lips  as  soon  as  the  Lord  gives  him 
an  opportunity  of  speaking.  He  dwells  upon  all  the 
piteous  details  with  that  fondness  for  repetition  which 
sorrow  knows  so  well.  Jesus  gives  him  back  his 
doubts.  The  father  said,  *  If  thou  canst  do  anything, 
have  compassion  on  us  and  help  us.'  Christ's  answer, 
according  to  the  true  reading,  is  not  as  it  stands  in  our 
Authorised  Version,  *  If  thou  canst  believe ' — throwing, 
as  it  were,  the  responsibility  on  the  man — but  it  is  a 
quotation  of  the  father's  own  word,  *  If  Thou  canst,'  as 
if  He  waved  it  aside  with  superb  recognition  of  its  utter 
unfitness  to  the  present  case.  *  Say  not,  If  Thou  canst. 
That  is  certain.  All  things  are  possible  to  thee'  (not 
to  do,  but  to  get) '  if — which  is  the  only  *  if '  in  the  case 
— '  thou  believest.  I  can,  and  if  thy  faith  lays  hold  on 
My  Omnipotence,  all  is  done.' 

That  majestic  word  is  like  the  blow  of  steel  upon 
flint ;  it  strikes  a  little  spark  of  faith  which  lights  up 
the  soul  and  turns  the  smoky  pillar  of  doubt  into  clear 
flame  of  confidence.  *  Lord,  I  believe ;  help  Thou  mine 
unbelief.' 
I  think  in  these  wonderful  words  we  have  four 
VOL.  II.  O 


34  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

things — the  birth,  the  infancy,  the  cry,  and  the  educa- 
tion, of  faith.    And  to  these  four  I  turn  now. 

I.  First,  then,  note  here  the  birth  of  faith. 

There  are  many  ways  to  the  temple,  and  it  matters 
little  by  which  of  them  a  man  travels,  if  so  be  he  gets 
there.  There  is  no  royal  road  to  the  Christian  faith 
which  saves  the  soul.  And  yet,  though  identity  of 
experience  is  not  to  be  expected,  men  are  like  each 
other  in  the  depths,  and  only  unlike  on  the  surfaces,  of 
their  being.  Therefore  one  man's  experience  carefully 
analysed  is  very  apt  to  give,  at  least,  the  rudiments  of 
the  experience  of  all  others  who  have  been  in  similar 
circumstances.  So  I  think  we  can  see  here,  without 
insisting  on  any  pedantic  repetition  of  the  same  details 
in  every  case,  in  broad  outline,  a  sketch-map  of  the 
road.  There  are  three  elements  here:  eager  desire, 
the  sense  of  utter  helplessness,  and  the  acceptance  of 
Christ's  calm  assurances.    Look  at  these  three. 

This  man  knew  what  he  wanted,  and  he  wanted  it 
very  sorely.  Whosoever  has  any  intensity  and  reality 
of  desire  for  the  great  gifts  which  Jesus  Christ  comes 
to  bestow,  has  taken  at  least  one  step  on  the  way  to 
faith.  Conversely,  the  hindrances  which  block  the 
path  of  a  great  many  of  us  are  simply  that  we  do  not 
care  to  possess  the  blessings  which  Jesus  Christ  in  His 
Gospel  offers.  I  am  not  talking  now  about  the  so- 
called  intellectual  hindrances  to  belief,  though  I  think 
that  a  great  many  of  these,  if  carefully  examined, 
would  be  found,  in  the  ultimate  analysis,  to  repose 
upon  this  same  stolid  indifference  to  the  blessings 
which  Christianity  offers.  But  what  I  wish  to  insist 
upon  is  that  for  large  numbers  of  us,  and  no  doubt 
for  many  men  and  women  whom  I  address  now,  the 
real  reason  why  they  have  not  trust  in  Jesus  Christ  is 


V.  24]  UNBELIEVING  BELIEF  35 

because  they  do  not  care  to  possess  the  blessings  which 
Jesus  Christ  brings.  Do  you  desire  to  have  your  sins 
forgiven?  Has  purity  any  attraction  for  you?  Do 
you  care  at  all  about  the  calm  and  pure  blessings  of 
communion  with  God  ?  Would  you  like  to  live  always 
in  the  light  of  His  face  ?  Do  you  want  to  be  the 
masters  of  your  own  lusts  and  passions  ?  I  do  not  ask 
you,  Do  you  want  to  go  to  Heaven  or  to  escape  Hell, 
when  you  die  ?  but  I  ask.  Has  that  future  in  any  of  its 
aspects  any  such  power  over  you  as  that  it  stirs  you  to 
any  earnestness  and  persistency  of  desire,  or  is  it  all 
shadowy  and  vain,  ineffectual  and  dim  ? 

What  we  Christian  teachers  have  to  fight  against  is 
that  we  are  charged  to  offer  to  men  a  blessing  that  they 
do  not  want,  and  have  to  create  a  demand  before  there 
can  be  any  acceptance  of  the  supply.  '  Give  us  the  leeks 
and  garlics  of  Egypt,'  said  the  Hebrews  in  the  wilder- 
ness ;  *  our  soul  loatheth  this  light  bread.'  So  it  is  with 
many  of  us ;  we  do  not  want  God,  goodness,  quietness 
of  conscience,  purity  of  life,  self-consecration  to  a 
lofty  ideal,  one-thousandth  part  as  much  as  we  want 
success  in  our  daily  occupations,  or  some  one  or  other 
of  the  delights  that  the  world  gives.  I  remember 
Luther,  in  his  rough  way,  has  a  story — I  think  it  is  in 
his  Table-talk — about  a  herd  of  swine  to  whom  their 
keeper  offered  some  rich  dainties,  and  the  pigs  said, 
*  Give  us  grains.'  That  is  what  so  many  men  do  when 
Jesus  Christ  comes  with  His  gifts  and  His  blessings. 
They  turn  away,  but  if  they  were  offered  some  poor 
earthly  good,  all  their  desires  would  go  out  towards  it, 
and  their  eager  hands  would  be  scrambling  who  should 
first  possess  it. 

Oh  brethren,  if  we  saw  things  as  they  are,  and  our 
needs  as  they  are,  nothing  would  kindle  such  intensity 


36  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

of  longing  in  our  hearts  as  that  rejected  or  neglected 
promise  of  life  eternal  and  divine  which  Jesus  Christ 
brings.  If  I  could  only  once  wake  in  some  indifferent 
heart  this  longing,  that  heart  would  have  taken  at 
least  the  initial  step  to  a  life  of  Christian  godliness. 

Further,  we  have  here  the  other  element  of  a  sense 
of  utter  helplessness.  How  often  this  poor  father  had 
looked  at  his  boy  in  the  grip  of  the  fiend,  and  had 
wrung  his  hands  in  despair  that  he  could  not  do  any- 
thing for  him  I  That  same  sense  of  absolute  impotence 
is  one  which  we  all,  if  we  rightly  understand  what  we 
need,  must  cherish.  Can  you  forgive  your  own  sins  ? 
Can  you  cleanse  your  own  nature?  Can  you  make 
yourselves  other  than  you  are  by  any  effort  of  volition, 
or  by  any  painf  ulness  of  discipline  ?  To  a  certain  small 
extent  you  can.  In  regard  to  superficial  culture  and 
eradication,  your  careful  husbandry  of  your  own  wills 
may  do  much,  but  you  cannot  deal  with  your  deepest 
needs.  If  we  understand  what  is  required,  in  order  to 
bring  one  soul  into  harmony  and  fellowship  with  God, 
we  shall  recognise  that  we  ourselves  can  do  nothing 
to  save,  and  little  to  help  ourselves.  *  Every  man  his 
own  redeemer,'  which  is  the  motto  of  some  people 
nowadays,  may  do  very  well  for  fine  weather  and  for 
superficial  experience,  but  when  the  storm  comes  it 
proves  a  poor  refuge,  like  the  gay  pavilions  that  they 
put  up  for  festivals,  which  are  all  right  whilst  the  sun 
is  shining  and  the  flags  are  fluttering,  but  are  wretched 
shelters  when  the  rain  beats  and  the  wind  howls.  We 
can  do  nothing  for  ourselves.  The  recognition  of  our 
own  helplessness  is  the  obverse,  so  to  speak,  and  under- 
side, of  confidence  in  the  divine  help.  The  coin,  as  it 
were,  has  its  two  faces.  On  the  one  is  written,  *  Trust 
in  the  Lord';  on  the  other  is  written,  'Nothing  in 


T.24]  UNBELIEVING  BELIEF  ;?^ 

myself.'  A  drowning  man,  if  he  tries  to  help  himself, 
only  encumbers  his  would-be  rescuer,  and  may  drown 
him  too.  The  truest  help  he  can  give  is  to  let  the 
strong  arm  that  has  cleft  the  waters  for  his  sake  fling 
itself  around  him  and  bear  him  safe  to  land.  So,  eager 
desire  after  offered  blessings  and  consciousness  of  my 
own  impotence  to  secure  them — these  are  the  initial 
steps  of  faith. 

And  the  last  of  the  elements  here  is,  listening  to  the 
calm  assurance  of  Jesus  Christ :  '  If  Thou  canst !  Do 
not  say  that  to  Me;  I  can,  and  because  I  can,  all 
things  are  possible  for  thee  to  receive.'  In  like  manner 
He  stands  at  the  door  of  each  of  our  hearts  and  speaks 
to  each  of  our  needs,  and  says  :  *  I  can  satisfy  it.  Rest 
for  thy  soul,  cleansing  for  thy  sins,  satisfaction  for 
thy  desires,  guidance  for  thy  pilgrimage,  power  for 
thy  duties,  patience  in  thy  sufferings — all  these  will 
come  to  thee,  if  thou  layest  hold  of  My  hand.'  His 
assurance  helps  trembling  confidence  to  be  born,  and 
out  of  doubt  the  great  calm  word  of  the  Master  smites 
the  fire  of  trust.  And  we,  dear  brethren,  if  we  will 
listen  to  Him,  shall  surely  find  in  Him  all  that  we  need. 
Think  how  marvellous  it  is  that  this  Jewish  peasant 
should  plant  Himself  in  the  front  of  humanity,  over 
against  the  burdened,  sinful  race  of  men,  and  pledge 
Himself  to  forgive  and  to  cleanse  their  sins,  to  bear 
all  their  sicknesses,  to  be  their  strength  in  weakness, 
their  comfort  in  sorrow,  the  rest  of  their  hearts,  their 
heaven  upon  earth,  their  life  in  death,  their  glory  in 
heaven,  and  their  all  in  all;  and  not  only  should 
pledge  Himself,  but  in  the  blessed  experience  of 
millions  should  have  more  than  fulfilled  all  that  He 
promised.  •  They  trusted  in  Him,  and  were  lightened, 
and  their  faces  were  not  ashamed.'     Will  you   not 


p  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

answer  His  sovereign  word  of  promise  with  your 
'Lord,  I  believe'? 

II.  Then,  secondly,  we  have  here  the  infancy  of 
faith. 

As  soon  as  the  consciousness  of  belief  dawned 
upon  the  father,  and  the  effort  to  exercise  it  was 
put  forth,  there  sprang  up  the  consciousness  of  its 
imperfection.  He  would  never  have  known  that  he 
did  not  believe  unless  he  had  tried  to  believe.  So  it  is 
in  regard  to  all  excellences  and  graces  of  character. 
The  desire  of  possessing  some  feeble  degree  of  any 
virtue  or  excellence,  and  the  effort  to  put  it  forth,  is 
the  surest  way  of  discovering  how  little  of  it  we  have. 
On  the  other  side,  sorrow  for  the  lack  of  some  form  of 
goodness  is  itself  a  proof  of  the  partial  possession,  in 
some  rudimentary  and  incipient  form,  of  that  good- 
ness. The  utterly  lazy  man  never  mourns  over  his 
idleness ;  it  is  only  the  one  that  would  fain  work 
harder  than  he  does,  and  already  works  tolerably 
hard,  who  does  so.  So  the  little  spark  of  faith  in 
this  man's  heart,  like  a  taper  in  a  cavern,  showed 
the  abysses  of  darkness  that  lay  unillumined  round 
about  it. 

Thus,  then,  in  its  infancy,  faith  may  and  does  co- 
exist with  much  unfaith  and  doubt.  The  same  state  of 
mind,  looked  at  from  its  two  opposite  ends,  as  it  were, 
may  be  designated  faith  or  unbelief ;  just  as  a  piece  of 
shot  silk,  according  to  the  angle  at  which  you  hold  it, 
may  show  you  only  the  bright  colours  of  its  warp  or 
the  dark  ones  of  its  weft.  When  you  are  travelling 
in  a  railway  train  with  the  sun  streaming  in  at  the 
windows,  if  you  look  out  on  the  one  hand  you  will  see 
the  illumined  face  of  every  tree  and  blade  of  grass  and 
house  ;  and  if  you  look  out  on  the  other,  you  will  see 


▼.24]  UNBELIEVING  BELIEF  89 

their  shadowed  side.  And  so  the  same  landscape  may 
seem  to  be  all  lit  up  by  the  sunshine  of  belief,  or  to 
be  darkened  by  the  gloom  of  distrust.  If  we  consider 
how  great  and  how  perfect  ought  to  be  our  confidence, 
to  bear  any  due  proportion  to  the  firmness  of  that 
upon  which  it  is  built,  we  shall  not  be  slow  to  believe 
that  through  life  there  will  always  be  the  presence  in 
us,  more  or  less,  of  these  two  elements.  There  will  be 
all  degrees  of  progress  between  the  two  extremes  of 
infantile  and  mature  faith. 

There  follows  from  that  thought  this  practical 
lesson,  that  the  discovery  of  much  unbelief  should 
never  make  a  man  doubt  the  reality  or  genuine- 
ness of  his  little  faith.  We  are  all  apt  to  write  need- 
lessly bitter  things  against  ourselves  when  we  get  a 
glimpse  of  the  incompleteness  of  our  Christian  life  and 
character.  But  there  is  no  reason  why  a  man  should 
fancy  that  he  is  a  hypocrite  because  he  finds  out  that 
he  is  not  a  perfect  believer.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
let  us  remember  that  the  main  thing  is  not  the 
maturity,  but  the  progressive  character,  of  faith.  It 
was  most  natural  that  this  man  in  our  text,  at  the 
very  first  moment  when  he  began  to  put  his  confidence 
in  Jesus  Christ  as  able  to  heal  his  child,  should  be 
aware  of  much  tremulousness  mingling  with  it.  But 
is  it  not  most  unnatural  that  there  should  be  the 
same  relative  proportion  of  faith  and  unbelief  in  the 
heart  and  experience  of  men  who  have  long  professed 
to  be  Christians?  You  do  not  expect  the  infant  to 
have  adult  limbs,  but  you  do  expect  it  to  grow.  True, 
faith  at  its  beginning  may  be  like  a  grain  of  mustard 
seed,  but  if  the  grain  of  mustard  seed  be  alive  it  will 
grow  to  a  great  tree,  where  all  the  fowls  of  the  air  can 
lodge  in  the  branches.    Oh  1  it  is  a  crying  shame  and 


40  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix 

sin  that  in  all  Christian  communities  there  should  be 
so  many  grey-headed  babies,  men  who  have  for  years 
and  years  been  professing  to  be  Christ's  followers,  and 
whose  faith  is  but  little,  if  at  all,  stronger — nay  !  per- 
haps is  even  obviously  weaker — than  it  was  in  the 
first  days  of  their  profession.  '  Ye  have  need  of  milk, 
and  not  of  strong  meat,'  very  many  of  you.  And  the 
vitality  of  your  faith  is  made  suspicious,  not  because 
it  is  feeble,  but  because  it  is  not  growing  stronger. 

III.  Notice  the  cry  of  infant  faith. 

'  Help  Thou  mine  unbelief '  may  have  either  of  two 
meanings.  The  man's  desire  was  either  that  his  faith 
should  be  increased  and  his  unbelief  '  helped '  by  being 
removed  by  Christ's  operation  upon  his  spirit,  or  that 
Christ  would  *  help '  him  and  his  boy  by  healing  the 
child,  though  the  faith  which  asked  the  blessing  was 
so  feeble  that  it  might  be  called  unbelief.  There  is 
nothing  in  the  language  or  in  the  context  to  determine 
which  of  these  two  meanings  is  intended ;  we  must 
settle  it  by  our  own  sense  of  what  would  be  most  likely 
under  the  circumstances.  To  me  it  seems  extremely 
improbable  that,  when  the  father's  whole  soul  was 
absorbed  in  the  healing  of  his  son,  he  should  turn 
aside  to  ask  for  the  inward  and  spiritual  process  of 
having  his  faith  strengthened.  Rather  he  said,  •  Heal 
my  child,  though  it  is  unbelief  as  much  as  faith  that 
asks  Thee  to  do  it.' 

The  lesson  is  that,  even  when  we  are  conscious  of  much 
tremulousness  in  our  faith,  we  have  a  right  to  ask  and 
expect  that  it  shall  be  answered.  Weak  faith  is  faith. 
The  tremulous  hand  does  touch.  The  cord  may  be 
slender  as  a  spider's  web  that  binds  a  heart  to  Jesus, 
but  it  does  bind.  The  poor  woman  in  the  other  miracle 
who  put  out  her  wasted  finger-tip,  coming  behind  Him 


T.24]  UNBELIEVING  BELIEF  41 

in  the  crowd,  and  stealthily  touching  the  hem  of  His 
garment,  though  it  was  only  the  end  of  her  finger-nail 
that  was  laid  on  the  robe,  carried  away  with  her  the 
blessing.  And  so  the  feeblest  faith  joins  the  soul,  in 
the  measure  of  its  strength,  to  Jesus  Christ. 

But  let  us  remember  that,  whilst  thus  the  cry  of 
infant  faith  is  heard,  the  stronger  voice  of  stronger 
faith  is  more  abundantly  heard.  Jesus  Christ  once 
for  all  laid  down  the  law  when  He  said  to  one  of  the 
suppliants  at  His  feet,  *  According  to  your  faith  be  it 
unto  you.'  The  measure  of  our  belief  is  the  measure 
of  our  blessing.  The  wider  you  open  the  door,  the 
more  angels  will  crowd  into  it,  with  their  white  wings 
and  their  calm  faces.  The  bore  of  the  pipe  deter- 
mines the  amount  of  water  that  flows  into  the  cistern. 
Every  man  gets,  in  the  measure  in  which  he  desires. 
Though  a  tremulous  hand  may  hold  out  a  cup  into 
which  Jesus  Christ  will  not  refuse  to  pour  the  wine 
of  the  kingdom,  yet  the  tremulous  hand  will  spill 
much  of  the  blessing ;  and  he  that  would  have  the  full 
enjoyment  of  the  mercies  promised,  and  possible,  must 
'  ask  in  faith,  nothing  wavering.'  The  sensitive  paper 
which  records  the  hours  of  sunshine  in  a  day  has  great 
gaps  upon  its  line  of  light  answering  to  the  times 
when  clouds  have  obscured  the  sun ;  and  the  com- 
munication of  blessings  from  God  is  intermittent,  if 
there  be  intermittency  of  faith.  If  you  desire  an 
unbroken  line  of  mercy,  joy,  and  peace,  keep  up  an 
unbroken  continuity  of  trustful  confidence. 

IV.  Lastly,  we  have  here  the  education  of  faith. 

Christ  paid  no  heed  in  words  to  the  man's  confes- 
sion of  unbelief,  but  proceeded  to  do  the  work  which 
answered  his  prayer  in  both  its  possible  meanings. 
He  responded  to  imperfect  confidence  by  His  perfect 


42  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.dl 

work  of  cure,  and,  by  that  perfect  work  of  cure,  He 
strengthened  the  imperfect  confidence  which  it  had 
answered. 

Thus  He  educates  us  by  His  answers— His  over- 
answers — to  our  poor  desires ;  and  the  abundance  of 
His  gifts  rebukes  the  poverty  of  our  petitions  more 
emphatically  than  any  words  of  remonstrance  before- 
hand could  have  done.  He  does  not  lecture  us  into 
faith,  but  He  blesses  us  into  it.  When  the  Apostle 
was  sinking  in  the  flood,  Jesus  Christ  said  no  word  of 
reproach  until  He  had  grasped  him  with  His  strong 
hand  and  held  him  safe.  And  then,  when  the  sustain- 
ing touch  thrilled  through  all  the  frame,  then,  and  not 
till  then.  He  said — as  we  may  fancy,  with  a  smile  on 
His  face  that  the  moonlight  showed  —  as  knowing 
how  unanswerable  His  question  was,  *  O  thou  of  little 
faith,  wherefore  didst  thou  doubt?'  That  is  how  He 
will  deal  with  us  if  we  will;  over-answering  our 
tremulous  petitions,  and  so  teaching  us  to  hope  more 
abundantly  that '  we  shall  praise  Him  more  and  more.' 

The  disappointments,  the  weaknesses,  the  shameful 
defeats  which  come  when  our  confidence  fails,  are 
another  page  of  His  lesson-book.  The  same  Apostle  of 
whom  I  have  been  speaking  got  that  lesson  when, 
standing  on  the  billows,  and,  instead  of  looking  at 
Christ,  looking  at  their  wrath  and  foam,  his  heart 
failed  him,  and  because  his  heart  failed  him  he  began 
to  sink.  If  we  turn  away  from  Jesus  Christ,  and 
interrupt  the  continuity  of  our  faith  by  calculating 
the  height  of  the  breakers  and  the  weight  of  the  water 
that  is  in  them,  and  what  will  become  of  us  when  they 
topple  over  with  their  white  crests  upon  our  heads, 
then  gravity  will  begin  to  work,  and  we  shall  begin  to 
sink.    And  well  for  us  if,  when  we  have  sunk  as  far  as 


V.  24]  UNBELIEVING  BELIEF  43 

our  knees,  we  look  back  again  to  the  Master  and  say, 
•  Lord,  save  me ;  I  perish ! '  The  weakness  which  is 
our  own  when  faith  sleeps,  and  the  rejoicing  power 
which  is  ours  because  it  is  His,  when  faith  wakes,  are 
God's  education  of  it  to  fuller  and  ampler  degrees  and 
depth.  We  shall  lose  the  meaning  of  life,  and  the  best 
lesson  that  joy  and  sorrow,  calm  and  storm,  victory 
and  defeat,  can  give  us,  unless  all  these  make  us 
'rooted  and  grounded  in  faith.' 

Dear  friend,  do  you  desire  your  truest  good?  Do 
you  know  that  you  cannot  win  it,  or  fight  for  it  to 
gain  it,  or  do  anything  to  obtain  it,  in  your  own 
strength  ?  Have  you  heard  Jesus  Christ  saying  to 
you,  '  Come  .  .  .  and  I  will  give  you  rest '  ?  Oh !  I 
beseech  you,  do  not  turn  away  from  Him,  but  like 
this  agonised  father  in  our  story,  fall  at  His  feet 
with  *  Lord,  I  believe ;  help  Thou  mine  unbelief,'  and 
He  will  confirm  your  feeble  faith  by  His  rich  response. 


RECEIVING  AND  FORBIDDING 

'And  He  came  to  Capemanm :  and  being  in  the  house  He  asked  them,  What  was 
it  that  ye  disputed  among  yourselves  by  the  way?  34.  But  they  held  their  peace: 
for  by  the  -way  they  had  disputed  among  themselves,  who  should  be  the  greatest. 
85.  And  He  sat  down,  and  called  the  Twelve,  and  saith  unto  them,  If  any  man 
desire  to  be  first,  the  same  shall  be  last  of  all,  and  servant  of  all.  36.  And  He  took 
a  child,  and  set  him  in  the  midst  of  them :  and  when  He  had  taken  him  in  His 
arms,  He  said  unto  them,  37.  Whosoever  shall  receive  one  of  such  children  in  My 
name,  receiveth  Me :  and  whosoever  shall  receive  Me,  receiveth  not  Me,  but  Him 
that  sent  Me.  38.  And  John  answered  Him,  saying.  Master,  we  saw  one  casting 
out  devils  in  Thy  name,  and  he  followeth  not  us :  and  we  forbad  him,  because  he 
followeth  not  us.  39.  But  Jesus  said.  Forbid  him  not :  for  there  is  no  man  which 
shall  do  a  miracle  in  My  name,  that  can  lightly  speak  evil  of  Me.  40.  For  he  that 
is  not  against  us  is  on  our  part.  41.  For  whosoever  shall  give  you  a  cup  of  water 
to  drink  in  My  name,  because  ye  belong  to  Christ,  verily  I  say  unto  you,  he  shall 
not  lose  his  reward.  42.  And  whosoever  shall  offend  one  of  these  little  ones  that 
believe  in  Me,  it  is  better  for  him  that  a  millstone  were  hanged  about  hie  neck, 
and  he  were  cast  into  the  sea.'— Makk  ix.  33-42. 

Surely  the  disciples  might  have  found  something 
better  to  talk  about  on  the  road  from  Csesarea,  where 
they  had  heard  from  Jesus  of  His  sufferings,  than  this 
miserable  wrangle  about  rank !  Singularly  enough, 
each  announcement  of  the  Cross  seems  to  have  pro- 
voked something  of  the  sort.  Probably  they  under- 
stood little  of  His  meaning,  but  hazily  thought  that 
the  crisis  was  at  hand  when  He  should  establish  the 
kingdom;  and  so  their  ambition,  rather  than  their 
affection,  was  stirred.  Perhaps,  too,  the  dignity 
bestowed  on  Peter  after  his  confession,  and  the 
favour  shown  to  the  three  witnesses  of  the  Trans- 
figuration, may  have  created  jealousy.  Matthew 
makes  the  quarrel  to  have  been  about  future  pre- 
cedence; Mark  about  present.  The  one  was  striven 
for  with  a  view  to  the  other.  How  chill  it  must  have 
struck  on  Christ's  heart,  that  those  who  loved  Him 
best  cared  so  much  more  for  their  own  petty  superiority 
than  for  His  sorrows  ! 
I.  Note  the  law  of  service  as  the    true  greatness 


Ts.33-42]  RECEIVING  AND  FORBIDDING  45 

(verses  33-35).  '  When  He  was  in  the  house,  He  asked  • 
them.'  He  had  let  them  talk  as  they  would  on  the 
road,  walking  alone  in  front,  and  they  keeping,  as  they 
thought,  out  of  ear-shot;  but,  when  at  rest  together 
in  the  house  (perhaps  Peter's)  where  He  lived  in 
Capernaum,  He  lets  them  see,  by  the  question  and 
still  more  by  the  following  teaching,  that  He  knew 
what  He  asked,  and  needed  no  answer.  The  tongues 
that  had  been  so  loud  on  the  road  were  dumb  in  the 
house — silenced  by  conscience.  His  servants  still  do  , 
and  say  many  things  on  the  road  which  they  would  not 
do  if  they  saw  Him  close  beside  them,  and  they  some- 
times fancy  that  these  escape  Him.  But  when  they 
are  •  in  the  house '  with  Him,  they  will  find  that  He 
knew  all  that  was  going  on;  and  when  He  asks  the 
account  of  it,  they,  too,  will  be  speechless.  'A  thing 
which  does  not  appear  wrong  by  itself  shows  its  true 
character  when  brought  to  the  judgment  of  God  and 
the  knowledge  of  Jesus  Christ '  {Bengel). 

Christ  deals  with  the  fault  with  much  solemnity,  seat-  • 
ing  Himself,  as  Teacher  and  Superior,  and  summoning 
the  whole  Twelve  to  hear.  We  do  not  enter  on  the 
difficult  question  of  the  relation  of  Mark's  report  of 
our  Lord's  words  to  those  of  the  other  Evangelists,  but 
rather  try  to  bring  out  the  significance  of  their  form 
and  connection  here.  Note,  then,  that  here  we  have  | 
not  so  much  the  nature  of  true  greatness,  as  the  road 
to  it.  *  If  any  man  would  be  first,'  he  is  to  be  least  and 
servant,  and  thereby  he  will  reach  his  aim.  Of  course, 
that  involves  the  conception  of  the  nature  of  true 
greatness  as  service,  but  still  the  distinction  is  to  be 
kept  in  view.  Further, '  last  of  all '  is  not  the  same  as 
'servant  of  all.'  The  one  phrase  expresses  humility;  the 
other,  ministry.    An  indolent  humility,  so  very  humble  i 


46  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

that  it  does  nothing  for  others,  and  a  service  which  is 
not  humble,  are  equally  incomplete,  and  neither  leads 
to  or  is  the  greatness  at  which  alone  a  Christian  ought 
to  aim.  There  are  two  paradoxes  here.  The  lowest 
is  the  highest,  the  servant  is  the  chief ;  and  they  may 
be  turned  round  with  equal  truth — the  highest  is  the 
lowest,  and  the  chief  is  the  servant.  The  former  tells 
us  how  things  really  are,  and  what  they  look  like,  when 
seen  from  the  centre  by  His  eye.  The  latter  prescribes 
the  duties  and  responsibilities  of  high  position.  In 
fact  and  truth,  to  sink  is  the  way  to  rise,  and  to  serve 
is  the  way  to  rule — only  the  rise  and  the  rule  are  of 
another  sort  than  contents  worldly  ambition,  and  the 
Christian  must  rectify  his  notions  of  what  loftiness  and 
greatness  are.  On  the  other  hand,  distinguishing  gifts 
of  mind,  heart,  leisure,  position,  possessions,  or  any- 
thing else,  are  given  us  for  others,  and  bind  us  to  serve. 
Both  things  follow  from  the  nature  of  Christ's  king- 
dom, which  is  a  kingdom  of  love ;  for  in  love  the  vulgar 
distinctions  of  higher  and  lower  are  abolished,  and 
service  is  delight.  This  is  no  mere  pretty  sentiment, 
but  a  law  which  grips  hard  and  cuts  deep.  Christ's 
servants  have  not  learned  it  yet,  and  the  world  heeds 
it  not ;  but,  till  it  governs  all  human  society,  and  pulls 
up  ambition,  domination,  and  pride  of  place  by  the 
roots,  society  will  groan  under  ills  which  increase  with 
the  increase  of  wealth  and  culture  in  the  hands  of  a 
selfish  few. 

II.  Note  the  exhibition  of  the  law  in  a  life.  Children 
are  quick  at  finding  out  who  loves  them,  and  there 
would  always  be  some  hovering  near  for  a  smile  from 
Christ.  With  what  eyes  of  innocent  wonder  the  child 
would  look  up  at  Him,  as  He  gently  set  him  there,  in 
the  open  space  in  front  of  Himself!    Mark  does  not 


vs.  33-42]  RECEIVING  AND  FORBIDDING  47 

record  any  accompanying  words,  and  none  were  needed, 
The  unconsciousness  of  rank,  the  spontaneous  accept- 
ance of  inferiority,  the  absence  of  claims  to  considera- 
tion and  respect,  which  naturally  belong  to  childhood 
as  it  ought  to  be,  and  give  it  winningness  and  grace,  are 
the  marks  of  a  true  disciple,  and  are  the  more  winning 
in  such  because  they  are  not  of  nature,  but  regained  by 
self-abnegation.  What  the  child  is  we  have  to  become. 
This  child  was  the  example  of  one-half  of  the  law,  being 
•  least  of  all,*  and  perfectly  contented  to  be  so ;  but  the 
other  half  was  not  shown  in  him,  for  his  little  hands 
could  do  but  small  service.  "Was  there,  then,  no  ex- 
ample in  this  scene  of  that  other  requirement  ?  Surely 
there  was ;  for  the  child  was  not  left  standing,  shy,  in 
the  midst,  but,  before  embarrassment  became  weep- 
ing, was  caught  up  in  Christ's  arms,  and  folded  to  His 
heart.  He  had  been  taken  as  the  instance  of  humilityp 
and  he  then  became  the  subject  of  tender  ministry. 
Christ  and  he  divided  the  illustration  of  the  whole  law 
between  them,  and  the  very  inmost  nature  of  true 
service  was  shown  in  our  Lord's  loving  clasp  and 
soothing  pressure  to  His  heart.  It  is  as  if  He  had 
said,  '  Look !  this  is  how  you  must  serve ;  for  you 
cannot  help  the  weak  unless  you  open  your  arms  and 
hearts  to  them.'  Jesus,  with  the  child  held  to  His 
bosom,  is  the  living  law  of  service,  and  the  child  nest- 
ling close  to  Him,  because  sure  of  His  love,  is  the  type 
of  the  trustful  affection  which  we  must  evoke  if  we  are 
to  serve  or  help.  This  picture  has  gone  straight  to  the 
hearts  of  men;  and  who  can  count  the  streams  of 
tenderness  and  practical  kindliness  of  which  it  has 
been  the  source? 

Christ  goes  on  to  speak  of  the  child,  not  as  the 
example  of  service,  but  of  being  served.     The  deep 


48  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

words  carry  us  into  blessed  mysteries  which  will  recom- 
pense the  lowly  servants,  and  lift  them  high  in  the 
kingdom.  Observe  the  precision  of  the  language,  both 
as  regards  the  persons  received  and  the  motive  of  re- 
ception. *One  of  such  little  children'  means  those 
who  are  thus  lowly,  unambitious,  and  unexacting. 
•  In  My  name '  defines  the  motive  as  not  being  simple 
humanity  or  benevolence,  but  the  distinct  recognition 
of  Christ's  command  and  loving  obedience  to  His 
revealed  character.  No  doubt,  natural  benevolence 
has  its  blessings  for  those  who  exercise  it ;  but  that 
which  is  here  spoken  of  is  something  much  deeper 
than  nature,  and  wins  a  far  higher  reward. 

That  reward  is  held  forth  in  unfathomable  words,  of 
which  we  can  but  skim  the  surface.  They  mean  more 
than  that  such  little  ones  are  so  closely  identified  with 
Him  that,  in  His  love.  He  reckons  good  done  to  them 
as  done  to  Him.  That  is  most  blessedly  true.  Nor  is 
it  true  only  because  He  lovingly  reckons  the  deed  as 
done  to  Him,  though  it  really  is  not;  but,  by  reason 
of  the  derived  life  which  all  His  children  possess  from 
Him,  they  are  really  parts  of  Himself;  and  in  that 
most  real  though  mystic  unity,  what  is  done  to  them 
is,  in  fact,  done  to  Him.  Further,  if  the  service  be 
done  in  His  name,  then,  on  whomsoever  it  may  be 
done,  it  is  done  to  Him.  This  great  saying  unveils 
the  true  sacredness  and  real  recipient  of  all  Christian 
service.  But  more  than  that  is  in  the  words.  When 
we  'receive'  Christ's  little  ones  by  help  and  loving 
ministry,  we  receive  Him,  and  in  Him  God,  for  joy  and 
strength.  Unselfish  deeds  in  His  name  open  the  heart 
for  more  of  Christ  and  God,  and  bring  on  the  doer 
the  blessing  of  fuller  insight,  closer  communion,  more 
complete  assimilation  to  his  Lord.     Therefore  such 


vs.  33-42]  RECEIVING  AND  FORBIDDING  49 

service  is  the  road  to  the  true  superiority  in  His 
kingdom,  which  depends  altogether  on  the  measure  of 
His  own  nature  which  has  flowed  into  our  emptiness. 

III.  The  Apostles'  conscience-stricken  confession  of 
their  breach  of  the  law  (verses  38-40).  Peter  is  not 
spokesman  this  time,  but  John,  whose  conscience  was 
more  quickly  pricked.  At  first  sight,  the  connection  of 
his  interruption  with  the  theme  of  the  discourse  seems 
to  be  merely  the  recurrence  of  the  phrase,  'in  Thy 
name ' ;  but,  besides  that,  there  is  an  obvious  contrast 
between  'receiving'  and  'forbidding.'  The  Apostle  is 
uneasy  when  he  remembers  what  they  had  done,  and, 
like  an  honest  man,  he  states  the  case  to  Christ,  half- 
confessing,  and  half -asking  for  a  decision.  He  begins 
to  think  that  perhaps  the  man  whom  they  had  silenced 
was  'one  such  little  child,'  and  had  deserved  more 
sympathetic  treatment.  How  he  came  to  be  so  true  a 
disciple  as  to  share  in  the  power  of  casting  out  devils, 
and  yet  not  to  belong  to  the  closer  followers  of  Jesus, 
we  do  not  know,  and  need  not  guess.  So  it  was  ;  and 
John  feels,  as  he  tells  the  story,  that  perhaps  their 
motives  had  not  been  so  much  their  Master's  honour 
as  their  own.  *  He  foUoweth  not  us,'  and  yet  he  is 
trenching  on  our  prerogatives.  The  greater  fact  that 
he  and  they  followed  Christ  was  overshadowed  by  the 
lesser  that  he  did  not  follow  them.  There  spoke  the 
fiery  spirit  which  craved  the  commission  to  burn  up  a 
whole  village,  because  of  its  inhospitality.  There  spoke 
the  spirit  of  ecclesiastical  intolerance,  which  in  all  ages 
has  masqueraded  as  zeal  for  Christ,  and  taken  *  follow- 
ing us '  and  '  following  Him '  to  be  the  same  thing.  But 
there  spoke,  too,  a  glimmering  consciousness  that 
gagging  men  was  not  precisely  '  receiving '  them,  and 
that  if  '  in  Thy  name '  so  sanctified  deeds,  perhaps  the 
VOL.  II.  D 


50  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.  ix. 

unattached  exorcist,  who  could  cast  out  demons  by  it, 
was  '  a  little  one '  to  be  taken  to  their  hearts,  and  not 
an  enemy  to  be  silenced.  Pity  that  so  many  listen  to 
the  law,  and  do  not,  like  John,  feel  it  prick  them ! 

Christ  forbids  such  'forbidding,'  and  thereby  sanc- 
tions 'irregularities'  and  'unattached'  work,  which 
have  always  been  the  bugbears  of  sticklers  for  ecclesi- 
astical uniformity,  and  have  not  seldom  been  the  life 
of  Christianity.  That  authoritative,  unconditional 
'forbid  him  not'  ought,  long  ago,  to  have  rung  the 
funeral  knell  of  intolerance,  and  to  have  ended  the 
temptation  to  idolise  'conformity,'  and  to  confound 
union  to  organised  forms  of  the  Christian  community 
with  union  to  Christ.  But  bigotry  dies  hard.  The 
reasons  appended  serve  to  explain  the  position  of  the 
man  in  question.  If  he  had  wrought  miracles  in 
Christ's  name,  he  must  have  had  some  faith  in  it ;  and 
his  experience  of  its  power  would  deepen  that.  So 
there  was  no  danger  of  his  contradicting  himself  by 
speaking  against  Jesus.  The  power  of  'faith  in  the 
Name'  to  hallow  deeds,  the  certainty  that  rudimentary 
faith  will,  when  exercised,  increase,  the  guarantee  of 
experience  as  sure  to  lead  to  blessing  from  Jesus,  are 
all  involved  in  this  saying.  But  its  special  importance 
is  as  a  reason  for  the  disciples'  action.  Because  the 
man's  action  gives  guarantees  for  his  future,  they 
are  not  to  silence  him.  That  implies  that  they  are 
only  to  forbid  those  who  do  speak  evil  of  Christ ; 
and  that  to  all  others,  even  if  they  have  not  reached 
the  full  perception  of  truth,  they  are  to  extend  patient 
forbearance  and  guidance.  '  The  mouth  of  them  that 
speak  lies  shall  be  stopped ' ;  but  the  mouth  that  begins 
to  stammer  His  name  is  to  be  taught  and  cherished. 

Christ's  second  reason  still  more  plainly  claims  tho 


Ts.33-42]  RECEIVING  AND  FORBIDDING  51 

man  for  an  ally.  Commentators  have  given  themselves 
a  great  deal  of  trouble  to  reconcile  this  saying  with  the 
other — '  He  that  is  not  with  Me  is  against  Me.'  If  by 
reconciling  is  meant  twisting  both  to  mean  the  same 
thing,  it  cannot  be  done.  If  preventing  the  appearance 
of  contradiction  is  meant,  it  does  not  seem  necessary. 
The  two  sayings  do  not  contradict,  but  they  complete, 
each  other.  They  apply  to  different  classes  of  persons, 
and  common-sense  has  to  determine  their  application. 
This  man  did,  in  some  sense,  believe  in  Jesus,  and 
worked  deeds  that  proved  the  power  of  the  Name. 
Plainly,  such  work  was  in  the  same  direction  as  the 
Lord's  and  the  disciples'.  Such  a  case  is  one  for  the 
application  of  tolerance.  But  the  principle  must  be 
limited  by  the  other,  else  it  degenerates  into  lazy  in- 
difference. *  He  that  is  not  against  us  is  for  us,'  if  it 
stood  alone,  would  dissolve  the  Church,  and  destroy 
distinctions  in  belief  and  practice  which  it  would  be 
fatal  to  lose.  '  He  that  is  not  with  Me  is  against  Me,' 
if  it  stood  alone,  would  narrow  sympathies,  and  cramp 
the  free  development  of  life.  We  need  both  to  under- 
stand and  get  the  good  of  either. 

IV.  We  have  the  reward  of  receiving  Christ's  little 
ones  set  over  against  the  retribution  that  seizes  those 
who  cause  them  to  stumble  (verses  41, 42).  These  verses 
seem  to  resume  the  broken  thread  of  verse  37,  whilst 
they  also  link  on  to  the  great  principle  laid  down  in 
verse  40.  He  that  is  '  not  against '  is  '  for,'  even  if  he 
only  gives  a  *  cup  of  water '  to  Christ's  disciple  because 
he  is  Christ's.  That  shows  that  there  is  some  regard 
for  Jesus  in  him.  It  is  a  germ  which  may  grow.  Such 
an  one  shall  certainly  have  his  reward.  That  does  not 
mean  that  he  will  receive  it  in  a  future  life,  but  that 
here  his  deed  shall  bring  after  it  blessed  consequences 


52  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.  dl 

to  himself.  Of  these,  none  will  be  more  blessed  than 
the  growing  regard  for  the  Name,  which  already  is,  in 
some  degree,  precious  to  him.  The  faintest  perception 
of  Christ's  beauty,  honestly  lived  out,  will  be  increased. 
Every  act  strengthens  its  motive.  The  reward  of  living 
our  convictions  is  firmer  and  more  enlightened  convic- 
tion. Note,  too,  that  the  person  spoken  of  belongs  to 
the  same  class  as  the  silenced  exorcist,  and  that  this 
reads  the  disciples  a  further  lesson.  Jesus  will  look 
with  love  on  the  acts  which  even  a  John  wished  to 
forbid.  Note,  also,  that  the  disciples  here  are  the 
recipients  of  the  kindness.  They  are  no  longer  being 
taught  to  receive  the  '  little  ones,'  but  are  taught  that 
they  themselves  belong  to  that  class,  and  need  kindly 
succour  from  these  outsiders,  whom  they  had  proudly 
thought  to  silence. 

The  awful,  reticent  words,  which  shadow  forth  and 
yet  hide  the  fate  of  those  who  cause  the  feeblest 
disciple  to  stumble,  are  not  for  us  to  dilate  upon. 
Jesus  saw  the  realities  of  future  retribution,  and 
deliberately  declares  that  death  is  a  less  evil  than 
such  an  act.  The  '  little  ones '  are  sacred  because  they 
are  His.  The  same  relation  to  Him  which  made  kind- 
ness to  them  so  worthy  of  reward,  makes  harm  to 
them  so  worthy  of  punishment.  Under  the  one  lies 
an  incipient  love  to  Him;  under  the  other,  a  covert 
and  perhaps  scarcely  conscious  opposition.  It  is 
devil's  work  to  seduce  simple  souls  from  allegiance 
to  Christ.  There  are  busy  hands  to  -  day  laying 
stumbling-blocks  in  the  way,  especially  of  young 
Christians — stumbling-blocks  of  doubt,  of  frivolity,  of 
slackened  morality,  and  the  like.  It  were  better,  says 
One  who  saw  clearly  into  that  awful  realm  beyond,  if 
a  heavy  millstone  were  knotted  about  their  necks, 


vs. 33-42]  RECEIVING  AND  FORBIDDING  53 

and  they  were  flung  into  the  deepest  place  of  the  lake 
that  lay  before  Him  as  he  spoke.  He  does  not  speak 
exaggerated  words ;  and  if  a  solemn  strain  of  vehe- 
mence, unlike  His  ordinary  calm,  is  audible  here,  it  is 
because  what  He  knew,  and  did  not  tell,  gave  solemn 
earnestness  to  His  veiled  and  awe-inspiring  prophecy 
of  doom.  What  imagination  shall  fill  out  the  details 
of  the  *  worse  than '  which  lurks  behind  that  •  better '  ? 


AN  UNANSWERED  QUESTION 

'What  was  it  that  ye  disputed  among  yourselves  by  the  way!'— Mark  ix.  S3. 

Was  it  not  a  strange  time  to  squabble  when  they  had 
just  been  told  of  His  death  ?    Note — 

I.  The  variations  of  feeling  common  to  the  disciples 
and  to  us  all :  one  moment  •  exceeding  sorrowful,'  the 
next  fighting  for  precedence. 

II.  Christ's  divine  insight  into  His  servants'  faults. 
This  question  was  put  because  He  knew  what  the 
wrangle  had  been  about.  The  disputants  did  not 
answer,  but  He  knew  without  an  answer,  as  His  im- 
mediately following  warnings  show.  How  blessed  to 
think  that  Psalm  cxxxix.  applies  to  Him — '  There  is  not 
a  word  in  my  tongue,  but  lo,  O  Lord !  Thou  knowest  it 
altogether.' 

III.  The  compassion  of  Christ  seeking  to  cure  the 
sins  He  sees.  His  question  is  not  to  rebuke,  but  to  heal ; 
so  His  perfect  knowledge  is  blended  with  perfect  love. 

IV.  The  test  of  evil.  They  were  ashamed  to  tell  Him 
the  cause  of  their  dispute. 

V.  The  method  of  cure.  The  presence  of  Christ  is 
the  end  of  strife  and  of  sin  in  general. 


SALTED  WITH  FIRE 

'Brery  one  ehall  be  salted  with  fire.'— Mark  Ix.  Ill 

Our  Lord  has  just  been  uttering  some  of  the  most 
solemn  words  that  ever  came  from  His  gracious  lips. 
He  has  been  enjoining  the  severest  self-suppression, 
extending  even  to  mutilation  and  excision  of  the  eye, 
the  hand,  or  the  foot,  that  might  cause  us  to  stumble. 
He  has  been  giving  that  sharp  lesson  on  the  ground  of 
plain  common  sense  and  enlightened  self-regard.  It  is 
better,  obviously,  to  live  maimed  than  to  die  whole. 
The  man  who  elects  to  keep  a  mortified  limb,  and 
thereby  to  lose  life,  is  a  suicide  and  a  fool.  It  is  a 
solemn  thought  that  a  similar  mad  choice  is  possible  in 
the  moral  and  spiritual  region. 

To  these  stern  injunctions,  accompanied  by  the  awful 
sanctions  of  that  consideration,  our  Lord  appends  the 
words  of  my  text.  They  are  obscure  and  have  often 
been  misunderstood.  This  is  not  the  place  to  enter  on 
a  discussion  of  the  various  explanations  that  have  been 
proposed  of  them.  A  word  or  two  is  all  that  is  need- 
ful to  put  us  in  possession  of  the  point  of  view  from 
which  I  wish  to  lay  them  on  your  hearts  at  this  time. 

I  take  the  •  every  one  '  of  my  text  to  mean  not  man- 
kind generally,  but  every  individual  of  the  class  whom 
our  Lord  is  addressing — that  is  to  say.  His  disciples. 
He  is  laying  down  the  law  for  all  Christians.  I  take 
the  paradox  which  brings  together  *  salting '  and  *  fire,' 
to  refer,  not  to  salt  as  a  means  of  communicating 
savour  to  food,  but  as  a  means  of  preserving  from 
putrefaction.  And  I  take  the  '  fire '  here  to  refer,  not 
to  the  same  process  which  is  hinted  at  in  the  awful 


56  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

preceding  words,  •  the  fire  is  not  quenched,'  but  to  be 
set  in  opposition  to  that  fire,  and  to  mean  something 
entirely  different.  There  is  a  fire  that  destroys,  and 
there  is  a  fire  that  preserves  ;  and  the  alternative  for 
every  man  is  to  choose  between  the  destructive  and 
the  conserving  influences.  Christian  disciples  have  to 
submit  to  be  *  salted  with  fire,'  lest  a  worse  thing  befall 
them. 

I.  And  so  the  first  point  that  I  would  ask  you  to 
notice  here  is — that  fiery  cleansing  to  which  every 
Christian  must  yield. 

Now  I  have  already  referred  to  the  relation  between 
the  words  of  my  text  and  those  immediately  preceding, 
as  being  in  some  sense  one  of  opposition  and  contrast. 
I  think  we  are  put  on  the  right  track  for  understand- 
ing the  solemn  words  of  this  text  if  we  remember  the 
great  saying  of  John  the  Baptist,  where,  in  precisely 
similar  fashion,  there  are  set  side  by  side  the  two  con- 
ceptions of  the  chaff  being  cast  into  the  unquenchable 
fire  (the  same  expression  as  in  our  text),  and  •  He  shall 
baptize  you  with  the  Holy  Ghost  and  with  fire.' 

The  salting  fire,  then,  which  cleanses  and  preserves, 
and  to  which  every  Christian  soul  must  submit  itself, 
to  be  purged  thereby,  is,  as  I  take  it,  primarily  and 
fundamentally  the  fire  of  that  Divine  Spirit  which 
Christ  Himself  told  us  that  He  had  come  to  cast  upon 
the  earth,  and  yearned,  in  a  passion  of  desire,  to  see 
kindled.  The  very  frequent  use  of  the  emblem  in  this 
same  signification  throughout  Scripture,  I  suppose  I 
need  not  recall  to  you.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  only 
worthy  interpretation  of  the  words  before  us,  which 
goes  down  into  their  depths  and  harmonises  with  the 
whole  of  the  rest  of  the  teaching  of  Scripture,  is  that 
which  recognises  these  words  of  my  text  as  no  un- 


▼.49]  SALTED  WITH  FIRE  57 

welcome  threat,  as  no  bitter  necessity,  but  as  a  joyful 
promise  bringing  to  men,  laden  and  burdened  with 
their  sins,  the  good  news  that  it  is  possible  for  them 
to  be  purged  from  them  entirely  by  the  fiery  ministra- 
tion of  that  Divine  Spirit.  Just  as  we  take  a  piece  of 
foul  clay  and  put  it  into  the  furnace,  and  can  see,  as  it 
gets  red-hot,  the  stains  melt  away,  as  a  cloud  does  in 
the  blue,  from  its  surface,  so  if  we  will  plunge  ourselves 
into  the  influences  of  that  divine  power  which  Christ 
has  come  to  communicate  to  the  world,  our  sin  and  all 
our  impurities  will  melt  from  off  us,  and  we  shall  be 
clean.  No  amount  of  scrubbing  with  soap  and  water 
will  do  it.  The  stain  is  a  great  deal  too  deep  for  that, 
and  a  mightier  solvent  than  any  that  we  can  apply,  if 
unaided  and  unsupplied  from  above,  is  needed  to  make 
us  clean.  *Who  can  bring  a  clean  thing  out  of  an 
unclean,'  especially  when  the  would-be  bringer  is  him- 
self the  unclean  thing  ?  Surely  not  one.  Unless  there 
be  a  power  ab  extra,  unparticipant  of  man's  evils,  and 
yet  capable  of  mingling  with  the  evil  man's  inmost 
nature,  and  dealing  with  it,  then  I  believe  that  uni- 
versal experience  and  our  individual  experience  tell  us 
that  there  is  no  hope  that  we  shall  ever  get  rid  of  our 
transgressions. 

Brethren,  for  a  man  by  his  own  unaided  effort,  how- 
ever powerful,  continuous,  and  wisely  directed  it  may 
be,  to  cleanse  himself  utterly  from  his  iniquity,  is  as 
hopeless  as  it  would  be  for  him  to  sit  down  with  a 
hammer  and  a  chisel  and  try  by  mechanical  means  to 
get  all  the  iron  out  of  a  piece  of  ironstone.  The  union 
is  chemical,  not  mechanical.  And  so  hammers  and 
chisels  will  only  get  a  very  little  of  the  metal  out.  The 
one  solvent  is  fire.  Put  the  obstinate  crude  ore  into 
your  furnace,  and  get  the  temperature  up,  and  the 


58  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

molten  metal  will  run  clear.  There  should  be  moun- 
tains of  scoriae,  the  dross  and  relics  of  our  abandoned 
sins,  around  us  all. 

If  we  desire  to  be  delivered,  let  us  go  into  the  fire.  It 
will  burn  up  all  our  evil,  and  it  will  burn  up  nothing 
else.  Keep  close  to  Christ.  Lay  your  hearts  open 
to  the  hallowing  influences  of  the  motives  and  the 
examples  that  lie  in  the  story  of  His  life  and  death. 
Seek  for  the  fiery  touch  of  that  transforming  Spirit, 
and  be  sure  that  you  quench  Him  not,  nor  grieve  Him. 
And  then  your  weakness  will  be  reinvigorated  by 
celestial  powers,  and  the  live  coal  upon  your  lips  will 
burn  up  all  your  iniquity. 

But,  subordinately  to  this  deepest  meaning,  as  I  take 
it,  of  the  great  symbol  of  our  text,  let  me  remind  you 
of  another  possible  application  of  it,  which  follows 
from  the  preceding.  God's  Spirit  cleanses  men  mainly 
by  raising  their  spirits  to  a  higher  temperature.  For 
coldness  is  akin  to  sin,  and  heavenly  warmth  is  akin  to 
righteousness.  Enthusiasm  always  ennobles,  delivers 
men,  even  on  the  lower  reaches  of  life  and  conduct 
from  many  a  meanness  and  many  a  sin.  And  when  it 
becomes  a  warmth  of  spirit  kindled  by  the  reception 
of  the  fire  of  God,  then  it  becomes  the  solvent  which 
breaks  the  connection  between  me  and  my  evil.  It  is 
the  cold  Christian  who  makes  no  progress  in  conquer- 
ing his  sin.  The  one  who  is  filled  with  the  love  of 
God,  and  has  the  ardent  convictions  and  the  burning 
enthusiasm  which  that  love  ought  to  produce  in  our 
hearts,  is  the  man  who  will  conquer  and  eject  his 
evils. 

Nor  must  we  forget  that  there  is  still  another  pos- 
sible application  of  the  words.  For  whilst,  on  the  one 
band,  the  Divine  Spirit's  method  of  delivering  us  is 


V.  49]  SALTED  WITH  FIRE  59 

very  largely  that  of  imparting  to  us  the  warmth  of 
ardent,  devout  emotion ;  on  the  other  hand,  a  part  of 
this  method  is  the  passing  of  us  through  the  fiery  trials 
and  outward  disciplines  of  life.  'Every  one  shall  be 
salted  with  fire '  in  that  sense.  And  we  have  learned, 
dear  brethren,  but  little  of  the  lovingkindness  of  the 
Lord  if  we  are  not  able  to  say,  'I  have  grown  more 
in  likeness  to  Jesus  Christ  by  rightly  accepted  sorrows 
than  by  anything  besides.'  Be  not  afraid  of  calamities ; 
be  not  stumbled  by  disaster.  Take  the  fiery  trial 
which  is  sent  to  you  as  being  intended  to  bring  about, 
at  the  last,  the  discovery  '  unto  praise  and  honour  and 
glory '  of  your  faith,  that  is  *  much  more  precious  than 
gold  that  perisheth,  though  it  be  tried  with  fire.' 
'Every  one  shall  be  salted  with  fire,'  the  Christian 
law  of  life  is.  Submit  to  the  fiery  cleansing.  Alas! 
alas  !  for  the  many  thousands  of  professing  Christians 
who  are  wrapping  themselves  in  such  thick  folds  of 
non-conducting  material  that  that  fiery  energy  can 
only  play  on  the  surface  of  their  lives,  instead  of 
searching  them  to  the  depths.  Do  you  see  to  it,  dear 
brethren,  that  you  lay  open  your  whole  natures,  down 
to  the  very  inmost  roots,  to  the  penetrating,  searching, 
cleansing  power  of  that  Spirit.  And  let  us  all  go  and 
say  to  Him,  '  Search  me,  O  God !  and  try  me,  and  see  if 
there  be  any  wicked  way  in  me.' 

II.  Notice  the  painf  ulness  of  this  fiery  cleansing. 

The  same  ideas  substantially  are  conveyed  in  my 
text  as  are  expressed,  in  different  imagery,  by  the 
solemn  words  that  precede  it.  The  *  salting  with  fire ' 
comes  substantially  to  the  same  thing  as  the  amputa- 
tion of  the  hand  and  foot,  and  the  plucking  out  of  the 
eye,  that  cause  to  stumble.  The  metaphor  expresses  a 
painful  process.    It  is  no  pleasant  thing  to  submit  the 


60  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

bleeding  stump  to  the  actual  cautery,  and  to  press  it, 
all  sensitive,  upon  the  hot  plate  that  will  stop  the 
flow  of  blood.  But  such  pain  of  shrinking  nerves  is 
to  be  borne,  and  to  be  courted,  if  we  are  wise,  rather 
than  to  carry  the  hand  or  the  eye  that  led  astray 
unmutilated  into  total  destruction.  Surely  that  is 
common  sense. 

The  process  is  painful  because  we  are  weak.  The 
highest  ideal  of  Christian  progress  would  be  realised  if 
one  of  the  metaphors  with  which  our  Lord  expresses 
it  were  adequate  to  cover  the  whole  ground,  and  we 
grew  as  the  wheat  grows,  *  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear, 
after  that  the  full  corn  in  the  ear.'  But  the  tranquillity 
of  vegetable  growth,  and  the  peaceful  progress  which 
it  symbolises,  are  not  all  that  you  and  I  have  to  expect. 
Emblems  of  a  very  different  kind  have  to  be  associated 
with  that  of  the  quiet  serenity  of  the  growing  corn,  in 
order  to  describe  all  that  a  Christian  man  has  to  ex- 
perience in  the  work  of  becoming  like  his  Master.  It  is 
a  fight  as  well  as  a  growth ;  it  is  a  building  requiring 
our  continuity  of  effort,  as  well  as  a  growth.  There 
is  something  to  be  got  rid  of  as  well  as  much  to  be 
appropriated.  We  do  not  only  need  to  become  better, 
we  need  to  become  less  bad.  Squatters  have  camped 
on  the  land,  and  cling  to  it  and  hold  it  vi  et  armis  ;  and 
these  have  to  be  ejected  before  peaceful  settlement  is 
possible. 

One  might  go  on  multiplying  metaphors  ad  libitum, 
in  order  to  bring  out  the  one  thought  that  it  needs 
huge  courage  to  bear  being  sanctified,  or,  if  you  do  not 
like  the  theological  word,  to  bear  being  made  better. 
It  is  no  holiday  task,  and  unless  we  are  willing  to  have 
a  great  deal  that  is  against  the  grain  done  to  us,  and 
in  us,  and  by  us,  we  shall  never  achieve  it.    We  have 


V.49]  SALTED  WITH  FIRE  61 

to  accept  the  pain.  Desires  have  to  be  thwarted,  and 
that  is  not  pleasant.  Self  has  to  be  suppressed,  and 
that  is  not  delightsome.  A  growing  conviction  of  the 
depth  of  one's  own  evil  has  to  be  cherished,  and 
that  is  not  a  grateful  thought  for  any  of  us.  Pains 
external,  which  are  felt  by  reason  of  disciplinary 
sorrows,  are  not  worthy  to  be  named  in  the  same  day 
as  those  more  recondite  and  inward  agonies.  But, 
brother,  they  are  all  *  light '  as  compared  with  the  ex- 
ceeding weight  of  *  glory,'  coming  from  conformity  to 
the  example  of  our  Master,  which  they  prepare  for  us. 

And  so  I  bring  you  Christ's  message :  He  will  have 
no  man  to  enlist  in  His  army  under  false  pretences. 
He  will  not  deceive  any  of  us  by  telling  us  that  it  is 
all  easy  work  and  plain  sailing.  Salting  by  fire  can 
never  be  other  than  to  the  worse  self  an  agony,  just 
because  it  is  to  the  better  self  a  rapture.  And  so  let 
us  make  up  our  minds  that  no  man  is  taken  to  heaven 
in  his  sleep,  and  that  the  road  is  a  rough  one,  judging 
from  the  point  of  view  of  flesh  and  sense ;  but  though 
rough,  narrow,  often  studded  with  sharp  edges,  like  the 
plough  coulters  that  they  used  to  lay  in  the  path  in 
the  old  rude  ordeals,  it  still  leads  straight  to  the  goal, 
and  bleeding  feet  are  little  to  pay  for  a  seat  at  Christ's 
right  hand. 

III.  Lastly,  notice  the  preservative  result  of  this 
painful  cleansing. 

Our  Lord  brings  together,  in  our  text,  as  is  often  His 
wont,  two  apparently  contradictory  ideas,  in  order,  by 
the  paradox,  to  fix  our  attention  the  more  vividly  upon 
His  words.  Fire  destroys ;  salt  preserves.  They  are 
opposites.  But  yet  the  opposites  may  be  united  in 
one  mighty  reality,  a  fire  which  preserves  and  does  not 
destroy.    The  deepest  truth  is  that  the  cleansing  fire 


62  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.  ix. 

which  the  Christ  will  give  us  preserves  us,  because  it 
destroys  that  which  is  destroying  us.  If  you  kill  the 
germs  of  putrefaction  in  a  bit  of  dead  flesh,  you 
preserve  the  flesh ;  and  if  you  bring  to  bear  upon  a 
man  the  power  which  will  kill  the  thing  that  is  killing 
him,  its  destructive  influence  is  the  condition  of  its 
conserving  one. 

And  so  it  is,  in  regard  to  that  great  spiritual  influence 
which  Jesus  Christ  is  ready  to  give  to  every  one  of  us. 
It  slays  that  which  is  slaying  us,  for  our  sins  destroy 
in  us  the  true  life  of  a  man,  and  make  us  but  parables 
of  walking  death.  When  the  three  Hebrews  were  cast 
into  the  fiery  furnace  in  Babylon,  the  flames  burned 
nothing  but  their  bonds,  and  they  walked  at  liberty  in 
the  fire.  And  so  it  will  be  with  us.  We  shall  be  pre- 
served by  that  which  slays  the  sins  that  would  other- 
wise slay  us. 

Let  me  lay  on  your  hearts  before  I  close  the  solemn 
alternative  to  which  I  have  already  referred,  and 
which  is  suggested  by  the  connection  of  my  text  with 
the  preceding  words.  There  is  a  fire  that  destroys  and 
is  not  quenched.  Christ's  previous  words  are  much  too 
metaphorical  for  us  to  build  dogmatic  definitions  upon. 
But  Jesus  Christ  did  not  exaggerate.  If  here  and  now 
sin  has  so  destructive  an  effect  upon  a  man,  O,  who 
will  venture  to  say  that  he  knows  the  limits  of  its 
murderous  power  in  that  future  life,  when  retribu- 
tion shall  begin  with  new  energy  and  under  new 
conditions  ?  Brethren,  whilst  I  dare  not  enlarge,  I  still 
less  dare  to  suppress  ;  and  I  ask  you  to  remember  that 
not  I,  or  any  man,  but  Jesus  Christ  Himself,  has  put 
before  each  of  us  this  alternative — either  the  fire  un- 
quenchable, which  destroys  a  man,  or  the  merciful  fire, 
which  slays  his  sins  and  saves  him  alive. 


V.49]  SALTED  WITH  FIRE  63 

Social  reformers,  philanthropists,  you  that  have  tried 
and  failed  to  overcome  your  evil,  and  who  feel  the 
loathly  thing  so  intertwisted  with  your  being  that  to 
pluck  it  from  your  heart  is  to  tear  away  the  very 
heart's  walls  themselves,  here  is  a  hope  for  you. 
Closely  as  our  evil  is  twisted  in  with  the  fibres  of  our 
character,  there  is  a  hand  that  can  untwine  the  coils, 
and  cast  away  the  sin,  and  preserve  the  soul.  And 
although  we  sometimes  feel  as  if  our  sinfulness  and 
our  sin  were  so  incorporated  with  ourselves  that  it 
made  oneself,  with  a  man's  head  and  a  serpent's  tail, 
let  us  take  the  joyful  assurance  that  if  we  trust  our- 
selves to  Christ,  and  open  our  hearts  to  His  power,  we 
can  shake  oflP  the  venomous  beast  into  the  fire  and  live 
a  fuller  life,  because  the  fire  has  consumed  that  which 
would  otherwise  have  consumed  us. 


•SALT  IN  YOURSELVES* 

'  'HiKre  salt  in  yourselves,  and  have  peace  one  with  another.'— Mabe  Ix.  50. 

In  the  context  'salt'  is  employed  to  express  the  pre- 
serving, purifying,  divine  energy  which  is  otherwise 
spoken  of  as  'fire.'  The  two  emblems  produce  the 
same  result.  They  both  salt — that  is,  they  cleanse  and 
keep.  And  if  in  the  one  we  recognise  the  quick  energy 
of  the  Divine  Spirit  as  the  central  idea,  no  less  are  we  to 
see  the  same  typified  under  a  slightly  different  aspect 
in  the  other.  The  fire  transforms  into  its  own  sub- 
stance and  burns  away  all  the  grosser  particles.  The 
salt  arrests  corruption,  keeps  off  destruction,  and 
diffuses  its  sanative  influence  through  all  the  par- 
ticles of  the  substance  with  which  it  comes  in  contact. 
And  in  both  metaphors  it  is  the  operation  of  God's 
cleansing  Spirit,  in  its  most  general  form,  that  is  set 
forth,  including  all  the  manifold  ways  by  which  God 
deals  with  us  to  purge  us  from  our  iniquity,  to  free 
us  from  the  death  which  treads  close  on  the  heels  of 
wrongdoing,  the  decomposition  and  dissolution  which 
surely  follow  on  corruption. 

This  the  disciples  are  exhorted  to  have  in  themselves 
that  they  may  be  at  peace  one  with  another.  Perhaps 
we  shall  best  discover  the  whole  force  of  this  saying 
by  dealing — 

I.  With  the  symbol  itself  and  the  ideas  derived 
from  it. 

The  salt  cleanses,  arrests  corruption  which  impends 
over  the  dead  masses,  sweetens  and  purifies,  and  so 
preserves  from  decay  and  dissolution.     It  works  by 


V.  50]  '  SALT  IN  YOURSELVES '  65 

contact,  and  within  the  mass.  It  thus  stands  as  an 
emblem  of  the  cleansing  which  God  brings,  both  in 
respect  (a)  to  that  on  which  it  operates,  (6)  to  the  pur- 
pose of  its  application,  and  (c)  to  the  manner  in  which 
it  produces  its  effects. 

(a)  That  on  which  it  operates. 

There  is  implied  here  a  view  of  human  nature,  not 
flattering  but  true.  It  is  compared  with  a  dead  thing, 
in  which  the  causes  that  bring  about  corruption  are 
already  at  work,  with  the  sure  issue  of  destruction. 
This  in  its  individual  application  comes  to  the  assertion 
of  sinful  tendency  and  actual  sin  as  having  its  seat  and 
root  in  all  our  souls,  so  that  the  present  condition  is 
corruption,  and  the  future  issue  is  destruction.  The 
consequent  ideas  are  that  any  power  which  is  to  cleanse 
must  come  from  without,  not  from  within ;  that  purity 
is  not  to  be  won  by  our  own  efforts,  and  that  there 
is  no  disposition  in  human  nature  to  make  these 
efforts.  There  is  no  recuperative  power  in  human 
nature.  True,  there  may  be  outward  reformation  of 
habits,  etc.,  but,  if  we  grasp  the  thought  that  the  tap- 
root of  sin  is  selfishness,  this  impotence  becomes  clearer, 
and  it  is  seen  that  sin  affects  all  our  being,  and  that 
therefore  the  healing  must  come  from  beyond  us. 

(6)  The  purpose — namely,  cleansing. 

In  salt  we  may  include  the  whole  divine  energy ;  the 
Word,  the  Christ,  the  Spirit.  So  the  intention  of  the 
Gospel  is  mainly  to  make  clean.  Preservation  is  a 
consequence  of  that. 

(c)  The  manner  of  its  application. 

Inward,  penetrating,  by  contact ;  but  mainly  the 
great  peculiarity  of  Christian  ethics  is  that  the  inner 
life  is  dealt  with  first,  the  will  and  the  heart,  and  after- 
wards the  outward  conduct. 

VOL.  II.  B 


6d  COSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

II.  The  part  which  we  have  to  take  in  this  cleansing 
process. 

'Have  salt'  is  a  command;  and  this  implies  that 
while  all  the  cleansing  energy  comes  from  God,  the 
working  of  it  on  our  souls  depends  on  ourselves. 

(a)  Its  original  reception  depends  on  our  faith. 

The  •  salt '  is  here,  but  our  contact  with  it  is  estab- 
lished by  our  acceptance  of  it.  There  is  no  magical 
cleansing  ;  but  it  must  be  received  within  if  we  would 
share  in  its  operation. 

(6)  Its  continuous  energy  is  not  secured  without  our 
effort. 

Let  us  just  recall  the  principle  already  referred 
to,  that  the  '  salt '  implies  the  whole  cleansing  divine 
energies,  and  ask  what  are  these  ?  The  Bible  variously 
speaks  of  men  as  being  cleansed  by  the  '  blood  of 
Christ,'  by  the  *  truth,'  by  the  '  Spirit.'  Now,  it  is  not 
difficult  to  bring  all  these  into  one  focus,  viz.,  that  the 
Spirit  of  God  cleanses  us  by  bringing  the  truth  concern- 
ing Christ  to  bear  on  our  understandings  and  hearts. 

We  are  sanctified  in  proportion  as  we  are  coming 
under  the  influence  of  Christian  truth,  which,  believed 
by  our  understandings  and  our  hearts,  supplies  motives 
to  our  wills  which  lead  us  to  holiness  by  copying  the 
example  of  Christ. 

Hence  the  main  principle  is  that  the  cleansing  energy 
operates  on  us  in  proportion  as  we  are  influenced  by 
the  truths  of  the  Gospel. 

Again,  it  works  in  proportion  as  we  seek  for,  and 
submit  to,  the  guidance  of  God's  Holy  Spirit. 

In  proportion  as  we  are  living  in  communion  with 
Christ. 

In  proportion  as  we  seek  to  deny  ourselves  and  put 
away  those  evil  things  which  '  quench  the  Spirit.' 


V.  60]         *  SALT  IN  YOURSELVES  '  67 

This  great  grace,  then,  is  not  ours  without  omr  own 
effort.  No  original  endowment  is  enough  to  keep  us 
right.  There  must  be  the  daily  contact  with,  and 
constant  renewing  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Hence  arises 
a  solemn  appeal  to  all  Christians. 

Note  the  independence  of  the  Christian  character. 

*In  yourselves.'  'The  water  that  I  shall  give  him 
shall  be  in  him  a  fountain,'  etc.  Not,  therefore,  derived 
from  the  world,  nor  at  second-hand  from  other  men, 
but  you  have  access  to  it  for  yourselves.  See  that  you 
use  the  gift.  *  Hold  fast  that  which  thou  hast,'  for  there 
are  enemies  to  withstand — carelessness,  slothfulness, 
and  self-confidence,  etc. 

III.  The  relation  to  one  another  of  those  who  possess 
this  energy. 

In  proportion  as  Christians  have  salt  in  themselves, 
they  will  be  at  peace  with  one  another.  Remember 
that  all  sin  is  selfishness ;  therefore  if  we  are  cleansed 
from  it,  that  which  leads  to  war,  alienation,  and  cold- 
ness will  be  removed.  Even  in  this  world  there  will 
be  an  anticipatory  picture  of  the  perfect  peace  which 
will  abound  when  all  are  holy.  Even  now  this  great 
hope  should  make  our  mutual  Christian  relations  very 
sweet  and  helpful. 

Thus  emerges  the  great  principle  that  the  founda- 
tion of  the  only  real  love  among  men  must  be  laid  in 
holiness  of  heart  and  life.  Where  the  Spirit  of  God  is 
working  on  a  heart,  there  the  seeds  of  evil  passions  are 
stricken  out.  The  causes  of  enmity  and  disturbance 
are  being  removed.  Men  quarrel  with  each  other  be- 
cause their  pride  is  offended,  or  because  their  passionate 
desires  after  earthly  things  are  crossed  by  a  successful 
rival,  or  because  they  deem  themselves  not  suificiently 
respected  by  others.    The  root  of  all  strife  is  self-love. 


68  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.ix. 

It  is  the  root  of  all  sin.  The  cleansing  which  takes 
away  the  root  removes  in  the  same  proportion  the 
strife  which  grows  from  it.  We  should  not  be  so 
ready  to  stand  on  our  rights  if  we  remembered  how 
we  come  to  have  any  hopes  at  all.  We  should  not  be 
so  ready  to  take  offence  if  we  thought  more  of  Him 
who  is  not  soon  angry.  All  the  train  of  alienations, 
suspicions,  earthly  passions,  which  exist  in  our  minds 
and  are  sure  to  issue  in  quarrels  or  bad  blood,  will  be 
put  down  if  we  have  *  salt  in  ourselves.' 

This  makes  a  very  solemn  appeal  to  Christian  men. 
The  Church  is  the  garden  where  this  peace  should 
flourish.  The  disgrace  of  the  Church  is  its  envyings, 
jealousies,  ill-natured  scandal,  idle  gossip,  love  of  pre- 
eminence, willingness  to  impute  the  worst  possible 
motives  to  one  another,  sharp  eyes  for  our  brother's 
failings  and  none  for  our  own.  I  am  not  pleading  for 
any  mawkish  sentimentality,  but  for  a  manly  peaceful- 
ness  which  comes  from  holiness.  The  holiest  natures 
are  always  the  most  generous. 

What  a  contrast  the  Church  ought  to  present  to  the 
prevailing  tone  in  the  world !  Does  it  ?  Why  not  ? 
Because  we  do  not  possess  the  'salt.'  The  dove  flees 
from  the  cawing  of  rooks  and  the  squabbling  of  kites 
and  hawks. 

The  same  principle  applies  to  all  our  human  affections. 
Our  loves  of  all  sorts  are  safe  only  when  they  are  pure. 
Contrast  the  society  based  on  common  possession  of  the 
one  Spirit  with  the  companionships  which  repose  on 
sin,  or  only  on  custom  or  neighbourhood.  In  all  these 
there  are  possibilities  of  moral  peril. 

The  same  principle  intensified  gives  us  a  picture  of 
heaven  and  of  hell.  In  the  one  are  the  'solemn 
troops  and  sweet  societies';  in  the  other,  no  peace. 


V.  50]         *  SALT  IN  YOURSELVES  '  69 

no  confidence,  no  bonds,  only  isolation,  because  sin 
which  is  selfishness  lies  at  the  foundation  of  the  awful 
condition. 

Friends,  without  that  salt  our  souls  are  dead  and 
rotting.  Here  is  the  great  cure.  Make  it  your  own. 
So  purified,  you  will  be  preserved,  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  unchecked  sin  leads  to  quick  destruction. 

The  dead,  putrefying  carcass— what  a  picture  of  a 
soul  abandoned  to  evil  and  fit  only  for  Gehenna ! 


CHILDREN  AND  CHILDLIKE  MEN 

•And  they  brought  yoang  children  to  Him,  that  He  should  tench  them:  and  His 
disciples  rebuked  those  that  brought  them.  14.  But  when  Jeaus  saw  it,  He  was 
much  displeased,  and  said  unto  them,  Suffer  the  little  children  to  come  unto  Me, 
and  forbid  them  not :  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of  |God.  15.  Verily  I  say  unto 
you,  Whosoever  shall  not  receive  the  kingdom  of  God  as  a  little  child,  he  shall  not 
enter  therein.'— Mark  x.  13-15. 

It  was  natural  that  the  parents  should  have  wanted 
Christ's  blessing,  so  that  they  might  tell  their  children 
in  later  days  that  His  hand  had  been  laid  on  their 
heads,  and  that  He  had  prayed  for  them.  And  Christ 
did  not  think  of  it  as  a  mere  superstition.  The  dis- 
ciples were  not  so  akin  to  the  children  as  He  was,  and 
they  were  a  great  deal  more  tender  of  His  dignity  than 
He.  They  thought  of  this  as  an  interruption  disturbing 
their  high  intercourse  with  Christ.  'These  children 
are  always  in  the  way,  this  is  tiresome,'  etc. 

I.  Christ  blessing  children. 

It  is  a  beautiful  picture :  the  great  Messiah  with  a 
child  in  His  arms.  We  could  not  think  of  Moses  or  of 
Paul  in  such  an  attitude.  Without  it,  we  should  have 
wanted  one  of  the  sweetest,  gentlest,  most  human  traits 
in  His  character  ;  and  how  world-wide  in  its  effect  that 
act  has  been  I  How  many  a  mother  has  bent  over  her 
child  with  deeper  love ;  how  many  a  parent  has  felt  the 
sacredness  of  the  trust  more  vividly;  how  many  a 
mother  has  been  drawn  nearer  to  Christ;  and  how 
many  a  little  child  has  had  childlike  love  to  Him 
awakened  by  it;  how  much  of  practical  benevolence 
and  of  noble  sacrifice  for  children's  welfare,  how  many 
great  institutions,  have  really  sprung  from  this  one 
deed! 

And,  if  we  turn   from  its  effects  to  its  meaning, 

10 


vs.  13-15]  CHILDLIKE  MEN  71 

it  reveals  Christ's  love  for  children: — in  its  human 
side,  as  part  of  His  character  as  man;  in  its  deeper 
aspect  as  a  revelation  of  the  divine  nature.  It  corrects 
dogmatic  errors  by  making  plain  that,  prior  to  all  cere- 
monies or  to  repentance  and  faith,  little  children  are 
loved  and  blessed  by  Him.  Unconscious  infants  as 
these  vrere  folded  in  His  arms  and  love.  It  puts  away 
all  gloomy  and  horrible  thoughts  which  men  have  had 
about  the  standing  of  little  children. 

This  is  an  act  of  Christ  to  infants  expressive  of  His 
love  to  them,  His  care  over  them,  their  share  in  His 
salvation.  Baptism  is  an  act  of  man's,  a  symbol  of  his 
repentance  and  dying  to  sin  and  rising  to  a  new  life  in 
Christ,  a  profession  of  his  faith,  an  act  of  obedience  to 
his  Lord.  It  teaches  nothing  as  to  the  relation  of 
infants  to  the  love  of  Jesus  or  to  salvation.  It  does 
not  follow  that  because  that  love  is  most  sure  and 
precious,  baptism  must  needs  be  a  sign  of  it.  The 
question,  what  does  baptism  mean,  must  be  determined 
by  examination  of  texts  which  speak  about  baptism; 
not  by  a  side-light  from  a  text  which  speaks  about 
something  else.  There  is  no  more  reason  for  making 
baptism  proclaim  that  Jesus  Christ  loves  children  than 
for  making  it  proclaim  that  two  and  two  make  four. 

II.  The  child's  nearness  to  Christ. 

•  Of  such  is  the  kingdom.'  '  Except  ye  be  converted 
and  become  like  little  children,'  etc.  Now  this  does  not 
refer  to  innocence  ;  for,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  children  are 
not  innocent,  as  all  schoolmasters  and  nurses  know, 
whatever  sentimental  poets  may  say.  Innocence  is 
not  a  qualification  for  admission  to  the  kingdom.  And 
yet  it  is  true  that '  heaven  lies  about  us  in  our  infancy,' 
and  that  we  are  further  off  from  it  than  when  we  were 
children.    Nor  does  it  mean  that  children  are  naturally 


72  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK  [ch.x. 

the  subjects  of  the  kingdom,  but  only  that  the  charac- 
teristics of  the  child  are  those  which  the  man  must 
have,  in  order  to  enter  the  kingdom  ;  that  their  natural 
disposition  is  such  as  Christ  requires  to  be  directed  to 
Him ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  childhood  has  a  special 
adaptation  to  Christianity.  For  instance,  take  depen- 
dence, trust,  simplicity,  unconsciousness,  and  docility. 

These  are  the  very  characteristics  of  childhood,  and 
these  are  the  very  emotions  of  mind  and  heart  which 
Christianity  requires.  Add  the  child's  strong  faculty  of 
imagination  and  its  implicit  belief;  making  the  form 
of  Christianity  as  the  story  of  a  life  so  easy  to  them. 
And  we  may  add  too :  the  absence  of  intellectual  pride ; 
the  absence  of  the  habit  of  dallying  with  moral  truth. 
Everybody  is  to  the  child  either  a  'good'  man  or  a 
•bad.'  They  have  an  intense  realisation  of  the  unseen; 
an  absence  of  developed  vices  and  hard  worldliness  ;  a 
faculty  of  living  in  the  present,  free  from  anxious  care 
and  worldly  hearts.  But  while  thus  they  have  special 
adaptation  for  receiving,  they  too  need  to  come  to 
Christ.  These  characteristics  do  not  make  Christians. 
They  are  to  be  directed  to  Christ.  'Suffer  them  to 
come  unto  Me,'  the  youngest  child  needs  to,  can,  ought 
to,  come  to  Christ.  And  how  beautiful  their  piety  is, 
'  Out  of  the  mouths  of  babes  and  sucklings  Thou  hast 
perfected  praise.'  Their  fresh,  unworn  trebles  struck 
on  Christ's  ear.  Children  ought  to  grow  up  in  Christian 
households,  'innocent  from  much  transgression.'  We 
ought  to  expect  them  to  grow  up  Christian. 

III.  The  child  and  the  Church. 

The  child  is  a  pattern  to  us  men.  We  are  to  learn  of 
them  as  well  as  teach  them ;  what  they  are  naturally, 
we  are  to  strive  to  become,  not  childish  but  childlike. 
•Even  as  a  weaned  child '  (see  Psalm  cxxxi.).    The  child- 


vs.  13-15]  CHILDLIKE  MEN  73 

spirit  is  glorified  in  manhood.  It  is  possible  for  us  to 
retain  it,  and  lose  none  of  the  manhood.  '  In  malice 
be  ye  children,  but  in  understanding  be  men.'  The 
spirit  of  the  kingdom  is  that  of  immortal  youth. 

The  children  are  committed  to  our  care. 

The  end  of  all  training  and  care  is  that  they  should 
by  voluntary  act  draw  near  to  Him.  This  should  be 
the  aim  in  Sunday  schools,  for  instance,  and  in  families, 
and  in  all  that  we  do  for  the  poor  around  us. 

See  that  we  do  not  hinder  their  coming.  This  is  a 
wide  principle,  viz.,  not  to  do  anything  which  may 
interfere  with  those  who  are  weaker  and  lower  than 
we  are  finding  their  way  to  Jesus.  The  Church,  and 
we  as  individual  Christians,  too  often  hinder  this 
*  coming.' 

Do  not  hinder  by  the  presentation  of  the  Gospel  in  a 
repellent  form,  either  hardly  dogmatic  or  sour. 

Do  not  hinder  by  the  requirement  of  such  piety  as 
is  unnatural  to  a  child. 

Do  not  hinder  by  inconsistencies.  This  is  a  warning 
for  Christian  parents  in  particular. 

Do  not  hinder  by  neglect.  *  Despise  not  one  of  these 
lijbtle  ones.' 


ALMOST  A  DISCIPLE 

'And  when  Me  was  gone  forth  into  the  way,  there  came  one  running,  and 
kneeled  to  Him,  and  asked  Him,  Good  Master,  what  shall  I  do  that  I  may 
inherit  eternal  life?  18.  And  Jeaua  said  unto  him.  Why  oallest  thou  Me  good! 
there  ia  none  good  but  one,  that  is,  God.  19.  Thou  knowest  the  commandments. 
Do  not  commit  adultery,  Do  not  kill,  Do  not  steal.  Do  not  bear  false  witness. 
Defraud  not,  Honour  thy  father  and  mother.  20.  And  he  answered  and  said  unto 
Him,  Master,  all  these  have  I  observed  from  my  youth.  21.  Then  Jesus  beholding 
him  loved  him,  and  said  unto  him,  One  thing  thou  lackest :  go  thy  way,  sell  what- 
soever thou  hast,  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shalt  have  treasure  in  heaven : 
and  come,  take  up  the  cross,  and  follow  Me.  22.  And  he  was  sad  at  that  saying, 
and  went  away  grieved:  for  he  had  great  possessions.  23.  And  Jesus  looked 
round  about  and  saith  unto  His  disciples.  How  hardly  shall  they  that  have  riches 
enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God!  24.  And  the  disciples  were  astonished  at  His 
words.  But  Jesus  answereth  again,  and  saith  unto  them.  Children,  how  hard  is  it 
for  them  that  trust  in  riches  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God  1  25.  It  is  easier  for 
a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into  the 
kingdom  of  God.  26.  And  they  were  astonished  out  of  measure,  saying  among 
themselves,  Who  then  can  be  saved  ?  27.  And  Jesus  looking  upon  them  saith. 
With  men  it  is  impossible,  bub  not  with  God  :  for  with  God  all  things  are  possible.' 
—Mark  x.  17-27. 

There  were  courage,  earnestness,  and  humility  in  this 
young  ruler's  impulsive  casting  of  himself  at  Christ's 
feet  in  the  way,  with  such  a  question.  He  was  not 
afraid  to  recognise  a  teacher  in  Him  whom  his  class 
scorned  and  hated;  he^was  deeply  sincere  in  his 
wish  to  possess  eternal  life,  and  in  his  belief  that  he 
was  ready  to  do  whatever  was  necessary  for  that  end ; 
he  bowed  himself  as  truly  as  he  bent  his  knees  before 
Jesus,  and  the  noble  enthusiasm  of  youth  breathed  in 
his  desires,  his  words,  and  his  gesture. 

But  his  question  betrayed  the  defect  which  poisoned 
the  much  that  was  right  and  lovable  in  him.  He  had 
but  a  shallow  notion  of  what  was  *  good,'  as  is  indicated 
by  his  careless  ^ascription  of  goodness  to  one  of  whom 
he  knew  so  littlg  as  he  did  of  Jesus,  and  by  his  concep- 
tion that  it  was  ^  matter  of  deeds.  He_is  too  sure  of 
himself ;  for  he  thinks  that  he  is  ready  and  able  to  do 
all  good  deeds,  if  duly  they  are  pointed  out  to  him. 

~~'""  \"  •    

\ 


vs.  17-27]       ALMOST  A  DISCIPLE  75 

How  little  he  understood  the  resistance  of  '  the  mind 
of  the  flesh '  to  discerned  duty !  Probably  he  had  had 
no  very  strong  inclinations  to  contend  against,  in 
living  the  respectable  life  that  h^^  been_his.  Itjs^only 
when  we  jrgw. against  the  stream  that  we  find  out  how 
fast  it^runs.  He^  was  wrong  about  the  connection 
of  good  deeds  and  eternal  life,  for  he  thought  of  them 
as  done  by  himself,  and  so  of  buying  it  by  his  own 
efforts.  Fatal  errors  could  not  have  been  condensed 
in  briefer  compass,  or  presented  in  conjunction  with 
more  that  is  admirable,  than  in  his  eager  question, 
asked  so  modestly  and  yet  so  presumptuously. 

Our  Lord  answers  with  a  coldness  which  startles; 
but  it  was  meant  to  rouse,  like  a  dash  of  icy  water 
flung  in  the  face.  *  Why  callest  thou  Me  good  ? '  is 
more  than  a  waving  aside  of  a  compliment,  or  a  lesson 
in  accuracy  of  speech.  It  rebukes  the  young  man's 
shallow  conception  of  goodness,  as  shown  by  the 
facility  with  which  he  bestowed  the  epithet.  'None 
is  good  save  one,  even  God,'  cuts  up  by  the  roots  his 
notion  of  the  possibility  of  self -achieved  goodness,  since 
it  traces  all  human  goodness  to  its  source  in  God.  If 
He  is  the  only  good,  then  we  cannot  perform  good  acts 
by  our  own  power,  but  must  receive  power  from  Him. 
How,  then,  can  any  man  •  inherit  eternal  life '  by  good 
deeds,  which  he  is  only  able  to  do  because  God  has 
poured  some  of  His  own  goodness  into  him?  Jesus 
shatters  the  young  man's  whole  theory,  as  expressed  in 
his  question,  at  one  stroke. 

But  while  His  reply  bears  directly  on  the  errors  in 
the  question,  it  has  a  wider  significance.  Either  Jesus 
is  here  repudiating  the  notion  of  His  own  sinlessness, 
and  acknowledging,  in  contradiction  to  every  other 
disclosure  of  His  self-consciousness,  that  He  too  was 


76  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK  [ch.x. 

not  through  and  through  good,  or  else  He  is  claiming 
to  be  filled  with  God,  the  source  of  all  goodness,  in  a 
wholly  unique  manner.  It  is  a  tremendous  alterna- 
tive, but  one  which  has  to  be  faced.  While  one  is 
thankful  if  men  even  imperfectly  apprehend  the  char- 
acter and  nature  of  Jesus,  one  cannot  but  feel  that  the 
question  may  fairly  be  put  to  the  many  who  extol  the 
beauty  of  His  life,  and  deny  His  divinity,  '  Why  callest 
thou  Me  good?'  Either  He  is  'God  manifest  in  the 
flesh,'  or  He  is  not '  good.' 

The_  remainder  of  Christ's  answer  tends  to  deepen 
the  dawning  conviction  of  the  impossibility  of  meriting 
eternal  life  by  acts  of  goodness,  apart  from  dependence 
on  God.  He  refers  to  the  second  half  of  the  Decalogue 
only,  not  as  if  the  first  were  less  important,  but  because 
the  breaches  of  the  second  are  more  easily  brought 
to  consciousness.  In  thus  answering,  Jesus  takes  the 
standpoint  of  the  law,  but  for  the  purpose  of  bringing 
to  the  very  opposite  conviction  from  that  which  the 
young  ruler  expresses  in  reply.  He  declares  that  he 
has  kept  them  all  from  his  youth.  Jesus  would  have 
had  him  confess  that  in  them  was  a  code  too  high  to 
be  fully  obeyed.  '  By  the  law  is  the  knowledge  of  sin,' 
but  it  had  not  done  its  work  in  this  young  man.  His 
shallow  notion  of  goodness  besets  and  blinds  him  still. 
He  is  evidently  thinking  about  external  deeds,  and  is 
an  utter  stranger  to  the  depths  of  his  own  heart.  It 
was  an  answer  betraying  great  shallowness  in  his  con- 
ception of  duty  and  in  his  self-knowledge. 

It  is  one  which  is  often  repeated  still.  How  many 
of  us  are  there  who,  if  ever  we  cast  a  careless  glance 
over  our  lives,  are  quite  satisfied  with  their  external 
respectability !  As  long  as  the  chambers  that  look  to 
the  street  are  fairly  clean,  many  think  that  all  is  right. 


vs.  17-27]       ALMOST  A  DISCIPLE  77 

But  what  is  there  rotting  and  festering  down  in  the 
cellars  ?  Do  we  ever  go  down  there  with  the  '  candle 
of  the  Lord '  in  our  hands  ?  If  we  do,  the  ruler's  boast, 
'  All  these  have  I  kept,'  will  falter  into  *  All  these  have 
I  broken.' 

But  let  us  be  thankful  for  the  love  that  shone  in 
Christ's  eyes  as  He  looked  on  him.  We  mayblame ; 
He  loved.  Jesus  saw  the  fault,  bjit  He  saw  thejonging 
to  be  better.  The  dim  sense  of  insufficiency  which  had 
driven  this  questioner  to  Him  was  clear  to  that  all- 
knowing  and  all-loving  heart.  Do  not  let  us  harshly 
judge  the  mistakes  of  tshose  who  would  fain  be  taught, 
nor  regard  the  professions  of  innocence,  which  come 
from  defective  perception,  as  if  they  were  the  proud 
utterances  of  a  Pharisee. 

But  Christ's  love  is  firm,  and  can  be  severe.  It  never 
pares  down  His  requirements  to  make  discipleship 
easier.  Rather  it  attracts  by  heightening  them,  and 
insisting  most  strenuously  on  the  most  difficult  sur- 
render. That  is  the  explanation  of  the  stringent 
demand  next  made  by  Him.  He  touched  the  poisonous 
swelling  as  with  a  sharp  lancet  when  He  called  for 
surrender  of  wealth.  Wejuay  be  sure  that  it  was_this 
man's  money  which  stood  between  him  and  eternal 
life.  If  something  else  had  been  his  chief  temptation, 
that  sonaething  would  have  been  signalised  as  needful^ 
to  be  given  up.  There  is  no  general  principle  of  coi> 
duct  laid  down  here,  ^but_a^sjiecific_injujic^ 
min^d  by  the  mdiyidual's  character.  All  diseases  are 
not  treated  with  the  same  medicines.  The  command^ 
i3_but  Christ's  application  of  His  broad^  requirement, 
'If  thine  eye  causeth  thee  to  stumble,  pluck  it  out.* 
The  principle  involved  is,  surrender  what  hinders 
entire    following  of   Jesus.      When  that   sacrifice   is 


78  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK  [ch.x. 

made,  we  shall  be  in  contact  with  the  fountain  of 
goodness,  and  have  eternal  life,  not  as  payment,  but 
as  a  gift. 

•  His  countenance  fell,'  or,  according  to  Mark's  pictur- 
esque word,  'became  lowering,'  like  a  summer  sky 
when  thunder-clouds  gather.  The  hope  went  out  of 
his  heart,  and  the  light  faded  from  his  eager  face.  The 
prick  of  the  sharp  spear  had  burst  the  bubble  of  his 
superficial  earnestness.  He  had  probably  never  had 
anything  like  so  repugnant  a  duty  forced  upon  him, 
and  he  cannot  bring  himself  to  yield.  Like  sojnany  of 
us,  he  says,  *  I  desire  eternal  life,'Jbut  wheji  it  C-Omes  to 
giving  up  the  dearest  thing  he  recoils.  *  Anything  else, 
Lord,  thou  shalt  have,  and  welcome,  but  not  that.* 
And  Christ  says, '  That,  and  nothing  else,  I  must  have, 
if  thou  art  to  have  Me.'  So  this  man  'went  away 
sorrowful.'  His  earnestness  evaporated ;  he  kepjt  his 
possessions,  and  he  lost  Christy  A  prudent  bargain! 
But  we  may  hope  that,  since  '  he  went  away  sorrowful,' 
he  felt  the  ache  of  something  lacking,  that  the  old 
longings  came  back,  and  that  he  screwed  up  his  resolu- 
tion to  make  'the  great  surrender,'  and  counted  his 
wealth  '  but  dung,  that  he  might  win  Christ.' 

What  a  world  of  sad  and  disappointed  love  there 
would  be  in  that  look  of  Jesus  to  the  disciples,  as 
the  young  ruler  went  away  with  bowed  head!  How 
graciously  He  anticipates  their  probable  censure,  and 
turns  their  thoughts  rather  on  themselves,  by  the  ac- 
knowledgment that  the  failure  was  intelligible,  since 
the  condition  was  hard !  How  pityingly  His  thoughts 
go  after  the  retreating  figure !  How  universal  the  appli- 
cation of  His  words !  Riches  may  become  a  hindrance 
to  entering  the  kingdom.  They  do  so  when  they  take 
the  first  place  in  the  affections  and  in  the  estimates  of 


vs.  17-27]        ALMOST  A  DISCIPLE  79 

good.  That  danger  besets  those  who  have  them  and 
those  who  have  them  not.  Many  a  poor  man  is  as 
much  caught  in  the  toils  of  the  love  of  money  as  the 
rich  are.  Jesus  modifies  the  form  of  His  saying  when 
He  repeats  it  in  the  shape  of  'How  hardly  shall  they 
that^trust  in  riches/  etc.  It  is  difficult  to  have,  and 
not  to  trust  in  them.  Rich  men's  disadvantages  as  to 
living  a  self-sacrificing  Christian  life  are  great.  To 
Christ's  eyes,  their  position  was  one  to  be  dreaded 
rather  than  to  be  envied. 

So  opposed  to  current  ideas  was  such  a  thought,  that 
the  disciples,  accustomed  to  think  that  wealth  meant 
happiness,  were  amazed.  If  the  same  doctrine  were 
proclaimed  in  any  great  commercial  centre  to-day,  it 
would  excite  no  less  astonishment.  At  least,  many 
Christians  and  others  live  as  if  the  opposite  were  true. 
Wealth  possessed,  and  not  trusted  in,  but  used  aright, 
may  become  a  help  towards  eternal  life ;  but  wealth  as 
commonly  regarded  and  employed  by  its  possessors, 
and  as  looked  longingly  after  by  others,  is  a  real,  and 
in  many  cases  an  insuperable,  obstacle  to  entering  the 
strait  gate.  As  soon  drive  a  camel,  humps  and  load 
and  all,  through  *a  needle's  eye,'  as  get  a  man  who 
trusts  in  the  uncertainty  of  riches  squeezed  through 
that  portal.  No  communities  need  this  lesson  more 
than  our  great  cities. 

No  wonder  that  the  disciples  thought  that,  if  the  road 
was  8o  difficult  for  rich  men,  it  must  be  hard  indeed. 
Christ  goes  even  farther.  He  declares  that  it  is  not  only 
hard,  but  'impossible,'  for  a  naan  by  hisjown  power  to 
tread  it.  That  was  exactly  what  the  young  man  had 
thought  that  he  could  do,  if  only  he  were  directed. 

So  our  Lord's  closing  words  in  this  context  apply, 
not  only  to  the  immediately  preceding  question  by  the 


80  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK  [ch.x. 

disciples,  but  may  be  taken  as  the  great  truth  con- 
veyed by  the  whole  incident.  Man's  efforts  can  never 
put  him  in  possession  of  eternal  life.  He  must  have 
GfodTs  power  flowing  into  him  if  he  is  to  be  such  as  can 
enter  the  kingdom.  It  is  the  germ  of  the  subsequent 
teaching  of  Paul ;  '  The  gift  of  God  is  eternal  life.' 
What  we  cannot  do,  Christ  has  done  for  us,  and  does 
in  us.  We  must  yield  ourselves  to  Him,  and  surrender 
ourselves,  and  abandon  what  stands  between  us  and 
Him,  and  then  eternal  life  will  enter  into  us  here,  and 
we  shall  enter  into  its  perfect  possession  hereafter. 


CHRIST  ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  CROSS 

'  And  they  were  in  the  way  going  up  to  Jernsalem ;  and  Jesus  went  before  them : 
and  they  were  amazed ;  and  as  they  followed  they  were  afraid.'— Mark  x.  32. 

We  learn  from  John's  Gospel  that  the  resurrection  of 
Lazarus  precipitated  the  determination  of  the  Jewish 
authorities  to  put  Christ  to  death;  and  that  immedi- 
ately thereafter  there  was  held  the  council  at  which, 
by  the  advice  of  Caiaphas,  the  formal  decision  was 
come  to.  Thereupon  our  Lord  withdrew  Himself  into 
the  wilderness  which  stretches  south  and  east  of  Jeru- 
salem; and  remained  there  for  an  unknown  period, 
preparing  Himself  for  the  Cross.  Then,  full  of  calm 
resolve,  He  came  forth  to  die.  This  is  the  crisis  in  our 
Lord's  history  to  which  my  text  refers.  The  graphic 
narrative  of  this  Evangelist  sets  before  us  the  little 
company  on  the  steep  rocky  mountain  road  that  leads 
up  from  Jericho  to  Jerusalem  ;  our  Lord,  far  in  advance 
of  His  followers,  with  a  fixed  purpose  stamped  upon 
His  face,  and  something  of  haste  in  His  stride,  and  that 
in  His  whole  demeanour  which  shed  a  strange  astonish- 
ment and  awe  over  the  group  of  eilent  and  uncompre- 
hending disciples. 

That  picture  has  not  attracted  the  attention  that  it 
deserves.  I  think  if  we  ponder  it  with  sympathetic 
imagination  helping  us,  we  may  get  from  it  some  very 
great  lessons  and  glimpses  of  our  Lord's  inmost  heart 
in  the  prospect  of  His  Cross.  And  I  desire  simply  to 
set  forth  two  or  three  of  the  aspects  of  Christ's  char- 
acter which  these  words  seem  to  me  to  suggest. 

VOL.  II.  F 


82  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK  [ch.x. 

I.  We  have  here,  then,  first,  what,  for  want  of  a 
better  name,  I  would  call  the  heroic  Christ. 

I  use  the  word  to  express  simply  strength  of  will 
brought  to  bear  in  the  resistance  to  antagonism ;  and 
although  that  is  a  side  of  the  Lord's  character  which 
is  not  often  made  prominent,  it  is  there,  and  ought  to 
have  its  due  importance. 

We  speak  of  Him,  and  delight  to  think  of  Him,  as  the 
embodiment  of  all  loving,  gracious,  gentle  virtues,  but 
Jesus  Christ  as  the  ideal  man  unites  in  Himself  what 
men  are  in  the  habit,  somewhat  superciliously,  of 
calling  the  masculine  virtues,  as  well  as  those  which 
they  somewhat  contemptuously  designate  the  feminine. 
I  doubt  very  much  whether  that  is  a  correct  distinction. 
I  think  that  the  heroism  of  endurance,  at  all  events,  is 
far  more  an  attribute  of  a  woman  than  of  a  man.  But 
be  that  as  it  may,  we  are  to  look  to  Jesus  Christ  as 
presenting  before  us  the  very  type  of  all  which  men 
call  heroism  in  the  sense  that  I  have  explained,  of  an 
iron  will,  incapable  of  deflection  by  any  antagonism, 
and  which  coerces  the  whole  nature  to  obedience  to  its 
behests. 

There  is  nothing  to  be  done  in  life  without  such  a 
will.  '  To  be  weak  is  to  be  miserable,  doing  or  suffering.' 
And  our  Master  has  set  us  the  example  of  this ;  that 
unless  there  run  through  a  man's  life,  like  the  iron 
framework  on  the  top  of  the  spire  of  Antwerp  Cathedral, 
on  which  graceful  fancies  are  strung  in  stone,  the  rigid 
bar  of  an  iron  purpose  that  nothing  can  bend,  the  life 
will  be  nought  and  the  man  will  be  a  failure.  Christ 
is  the  pattern  of  heroic  endurance,  and  reads  to  us  the 
lesson  to  resist  and  persist,  whatever  stands  between  us 
and  our  goal. 

So  here,  the  Cross  before  Him  flung  out  no  repelling 


V.32]    ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  CROSS     83 

influence  towards  Him,  but  rather  drew  Him  to  itself. 
There  is  no  reason  that  I  can  find  for  believing  the 
modern  theory  of  the  rationalists'  school  that  our 
Lord,  in  the  course  of  His  mission,  altered  His  plan,  or 
gradually  had  dawning  upon  His  mind  the  conviction 
that  to  carry  out  His  purposes  He  must  be  a  martyr. 
That  seems  to  me  to  be  an  entire  misreading  of  the 
Gospel  narrative  which  sets  before  us  much  rather 
this,  that  from  the  beginning  of  our  Lord's  public 
career  there  stood  unmistakably  before  Him  the  Cross 
as  the  goal.  He  entertained  no  illusions  as  to  His 
reception.  He  did  not  come  to  do  certain  work,  and, 
finding  that  He  could  not  do  it,  accepted  the  martyr's 
rdle;  but  He  came  for  the  twofold  purpose  of  serv- 
ing by  His  life,  and  of  redeeming  by  His  death.  '  He 
came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister,  and 
to  give  His  life  a  ransom  for  the  many.'  And  this 
purpose  stood  clear  before  Him,  drawing  Him  to  itself 
all  through  His  career. 

But,  further,  Christ's  character  teaches  us  what  is  the 
highest  form  of  such  strength  and  tenacity,  viz.,  gentle- 
ness. There  is  no  need  to  be  brusque,  obstinate,  angular, 
self-absorbed,  harsh,  because  we  are  fixed  and  deter- 
mined in  our  course.  These  things  are  the  caricatures 
and  the  diminutions,  not  the  true  forms  nor  the  increase, 
of  strength.  The  most  tenacious  steel  is  the  most 
flexible,  and  he  that  has  the  most  fixed  and  definite 
resolve  may  be  the  man  that  has  his  heart  most  open 
to  all  human  sympathies,  and  is  strong  with  the 
almightiness  of  gentleness,  and  not  with  the  less  close- 
knit  strength  of  roughness  and  of  hardness.  Christ, 
because  He  is  perfect  love,  is  perfect  power,  and  His 
will  is  fixed  because  it  is  love  that  fixes  it.  So  let  us 
take  the  lesson  that  the  highest  type  of  strength  is 


84  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK  [ch.  x. 

strength  in  meekness,  and  that  the  Master  who,  I  was 
going  to  say,  kept  His  strength  of  will  under,  but  I  more 
correctly  say,  manifested  His  strength  of  will  through, 
His  gentleness,  is  the  pattern  for  us. 

II.  Then  again,  we  see  here  not  only  the  heroic,  but 
what  I  may  call  the  self-sacrificing  Christ. 

We  have  not  only  to  consider  the  fixed  will  which 
this  incident  reveals,  but  to  remember  the  purpose  on 
which  it  was  fixed,  and  that  He  was  hastening  to  His 
Cross.  The  very  fact  of  our  Lord's  going  back  to 
Jerusalem,  with  that  decree  of  the  Sanhedrim  still  in 
force,  was  tantamount  to  His  surrender  of  Himself  to 
death.  It  was  as  if,  in  the  old  days,  some  excommuni- 
cated man  with  the  decree  of  the  Inquisition  pronounced 
against  him  had  gone  into  Rome  and  planted  himself 
in  the  front  of  the  piazza  before  the  buildings  of  the 
Holy  Office,  and  lifted  up  his  testimony  there.  So 
Christ,  knowing  that  this  council  has  been  held,  that 
this  decree  stands,  goes  back,  investing  of  set  purpose 
His  return  with  all  the  publicity  that  He  can  bring  to 
bear  upon  it.  For  this  once  He  seems  to  determine  that 
He  will  •  cause  His  voice  to  be  heard  in  the  streets ' ;  He 
makes  as  much  of  a  demonstration  as  the  circumstances 
will  allow,  and  so  acts  in  a  manner  opposite  to  all  the 
rest  of  His  life.  Why?  Because  He  had  determined 
to  bring  the  controversy  to  an  end.  Why  ?  Was  He 
flinging  away  His  life  in  mere  despair  ?  Was  He  sin- 
fully neglecting  precautions  ?  Was  the  same  fanaticism 
of  martyrdom  which  has  often  told  upon  men,  acting 
upon  Him?  Were  these  His  reasons?  No,  but  He 
recognised  that  now  that  •  hour '  of  which  He  spoke  so 
much  had  come,  and  of  His  own  loving  will  offered 
Himself  as  our  Sacrifice. 

It  is  all-important  to  keep  in  view  that  Christ's  death 


T.32]     ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  CROSS     85 

was  His  own  voluntary  act.  "Whatever  external  forces 
were  brought  to  bear  in  the  accomplishment  of  it,  He 
died  because  He  chose  to  die.  The  '  cords '  which  bound 
this  sacrifice  to  the  horns  of  the  altar  were  cords  woven 
by  Himself. 

So  I  point  to  the  incident  of  my  text,  as  linking  in 
along  with  the  whole  series  of  incidents  marking  the 
last  days  of  our  Lord's  life,  in  order  to  stamp  upon  His 
death  unmistakably  this  signature,  that  it  was  His  own 
act.  Therefore  the  publicity  that  was  given  to  His 
entry ;  therefore  His  appearance  in  the  Temple ;  there- 
fore the  increased  sharpness  and  unmistakableness  of 
His  denunciations  of  the  ruling  classes,  the  Pharisees 
and  the  scribes.  Therefore  the  whole  history  of  the 
Passion,  all  culminating  in  leaving  this  one  conviction, 
that  He  had  *  power  to  lay  down  His  life,'  that  neither 
Caiaphas  nor  Annas,  nor  Judas,  nor  the  band,  nor 
priests,  nor  the  Council,  nor  Pilate,  nor  Herod,  nor 
soldiers,  nor  nails,  nor  cross,  nor  all  together,  killed 
Jesus,  but  that  Jesus  died  because  He  would.  The 
self-sacrifice  of  the  Lord  was  not  the  flinging  away  of 
the  life  that  He  ought  to  have  preserved,  nor  careless- 
ness, nor  the  fanaticism  of  a  martyr,  nor  the  enthusiasm 
of  a  hero  and  a  champion,  but  it  was  the  voluntary 
death  of  Him  who  of  His  own  will  became  in  His  death 
the  '  oblation  and  satisfaction  for  the  sins  of  the  whole 
world.'  Love  to  us,  and  obedience  to  the  Father  whose 
will  He  made  His  own,  were  the  cords  that  bound 
Christ  to  the  Cross  on  which  He  died.  His  sacrifice 
was  voluntary;  witness  this  fact  that  when  He  saw 
the  Cross  at  hand  He  strode  before  His  followers  to 
reach  that,  the  goal  of  His  mission. 

III.  I  venture  to  regard  the  incident  as  giving  us  a 
little  glimpse  of  what  I  may  call  the  shrinking  Christ. 


86  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK  [ch.x. 

Do  we  not  see  here  a  trace  of  something  that  we  all 
know  ?  May  not  part  of  the  reason  for  Christ's  haste 
have  been  that  desire  which  we  all  have,  when  some 
inevitable  grief  or  pain  lies  before  us,  to  get  it  over 
soon,  and  to  abbreviate  the  moments  that  lie  between 
us  and  it  ?  Was  there  not  something  of  that  feeling  in 
our  Lord's  sensitive  nature  when  He  said,  for  instance, 
'  I  have  a  baptism  to  be  baptized  with,  and  how  am  I 
straitened  until  it  be  accomplished'?  •!  am  come  to 
send  fire  upon  the  earth,  and  O!  how  I  wish  that  it 
were  already  kindled  ! '  Was  there  not  something  of 
the  same  feeling,  which  we  cannot  call  impatient,  but 
which  we  may  call  shrinking  from  the  Cross,  and 
therefore  seeking  to  draw  the  Cross  nearer,  and  have 
done  with  it,  in  the  words  which  He  addressed  to  the 
betrayer,  *  That  thou  doest,  do  quickly,'  as  if  He  were 
making  a  last  appeal  to  the  man's  humanity,  and  in 
effect  saying  to  him,  'If  you  have  a  heart  at  all, 
shorten  these  painful  hours,  and  let  us  have  it  over '  ? 

And  may  we  not  see,  in  that  swift  advance  in  front 
of  the  lagging  disciples,  some  trace  of  the  same  feeling 
which  we  recognise  to  be  so  truly  human  ? 

Christ  did  shrink  from  His  Cross.  Let  us  never  for- 
get that  He  recoiled  from  it,  with  the  simple,  instinc- 
tive, human  shrinking  from  pain  and  death  which  is  a 
matter  of  the  physical  nervous  system,  and  has  nothing 
to  do  with  the  will  at  all.  If  there  had  been  no  shrink- 
ing from  it  there  had  been  no  fixed  will.  If  there  had 
been  no  natural  instinctive  drawing  back  of  the  physi- 
cal nature  and  its  connections  from  the  prospect  of  pain 
and  death,  there  had  been  none  of  the  heroism  of  which 
I  am  speaking.  Though  it  does  not  become  us  to 
dogmatise  about  matters  of  which  we  know  so  little,  I 
think  we  may  fairly  say  that  that  shrinking  never  rose 


T.32]    ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  CROSS      87 

up  into  the  regions  of  Christ's  will;  never  became  a 
desire ;  never  became  a  purpose.  Howsoever  the  ship 
might  be  tossed  by  the  waves,  the  will  always  kept  its 
level  equilibrium.  Howsoever  the  physical  nature 
might  incline  to  this  side  or  to  that,  the  will  always 
kept  parallel  with  the  great  underlying  divine  will, 
the  Father's  purpose  which  He  had  come  to  effect. 
There  was  shrinking  which  was  instinctive  and  human, 
but  it  never  disturbed  the  fixed  purpose  to  die.  It  had 
so  much  power  over  Him  as  to  make  Him  march  a 
little  faster  to  the  Cross,  but  it  never  made  Him  turn 
from  it.  And  so  He  stands  before  us  as  the  Conqueror 
in  a  real  conflict,  as  having  yielded  Himself  up  by  a  real 
surrender,  as  having  overcome  a  real  difficulty, '  for  the 
joy  that  was  set  before  Him,  having  endured  the  Cross, 
despising  the  shame.' 

IV.  So,  lastly,  I  would  see  here  the  lonely  Christ. 

In  front  of  His  followers,  absorbed  in  the  thought 
of  what  was  drawing  so  near,  gathering  together  His 
powers  in  order  to  be  ready  for  the  struggle,  with  His 
heart  full  of  the  love  and  the  pity  which  impelled  Him, 
He  is  surrounded  as  with  a  cloud  which  shuts  Him '  out 
from  their  sight,'  as  afterwards  the  cloud  of  glory 
*  received  Him.' 

What  a  gulf  there  was  between  them  and  Him, 
between  their  thoughts  and  His,  as  He  passed  up  that 
rocky  way!  What  were  they  thinking  about?  *By 
the  way  they  had  disputed  amongst  themselves  which 
of  them  should  be  the  greatest.'  So  far  did  they  sympa- 
thise with  the  Master!  So  far  did  they  understand 
Him !  Talk  about  men  with  unappreciated  aims,  heroes 
that  have  lived  through  a  lifetime  of  misunderstand- 
ing and  never  have  had  any  one  to  sympathise  with 
them  1   There  never  was  such  a  lonely  man  in  the  world 


88  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK  [oh.x. 

as  Jesus  Christ.  Never  was  there  one  that  carried  so 
deep  in  His  heart  so  great  a  purpose  and  so  great  a 
love,  which  none  cared  a  rush  about.  And  those  that 
were  nearest  Him,  and  loved  Him  best,  loved  Him  so 
blunderingly  and  so  blindly  that  their  love  must  often 
have  been  quite  as  much  of  a  pain  as  of  a  joy. 

In  His  Passion  that  solitude  reached  the  point  of 
agony.  How  touching  in  its  unconscious  pathos  is  His 
pleading  request,  '  Tarry  ye  here,  and  watch  with  Me  ! ' 
How  touching  in  their  revelation  of  a  subsidiary  but 
yet  very  real  addition  to  His  pains  are  His  words,  '  All 
ye  shall  be  offended  because  of  Me  this  night.'  Oh, 
dear  brethren  !  every  human  soul  has  to  go  down  into 
the  darkness  alone,  however  close  may  be  the  clasp- 
ing love  which  accompanies  us  to  the  portal ;  but  the 
loneliness  of  death  was  realised  by  Jesus  Christ  in  a 
very  unique  and  solemn  manner.  For  round  Him 
there  gathered  the  clouds  of  a  mysterious  agony,  only 
faintly  typified  by  the  darkness  of  eclipse  which  hid 
the  material  sun  in  the  universe,  what  time  He  died. 

And  all  this  solitude,  the  solitude  of  unappreciated 
aims,  and  unshared  purposes,  and  misunderstood 
sorrow  during  life,  and  the  solitude  of  death  with  its 
elements  ineffable  of  atonement ; — all  this  solitude  was 
borne  that  no  human  soul,  living  or  dying,  might  ever 
be  lonely  any  more.  *  Lo  !  I,'  whom  you  all  left  alone, 
'  am  with  you,'  who  left  Me  alone,  *  even  till  the  end  of 
the  world.' 

So,  dear  brethren,  ponder  that  picture  that  I  have 
been  trying  very  feebly  to  set  before  you,  of  the  heroic, 
self-sacrificing,  shrinking,  solitary  Saviour.  Take  Him 
as  your  Saviour,  your  Sacrifice,  your  Pattern  ;  and  hear 
Him  saying,  *  If  any  man  serve  Me,  let  him  follow  Me, 
and  where  I  am  there  shall  also  My  servant  be.' 


V.  32]    ON  THE  ROAD  TO  THE  CROSS      89 

An  old  ecclesiastical  legend  conies  into  my  mind  at 
the  moment,  which  tells  how  an  emperoi-  won  the  true 
Cross  in  battle  from  a  pagan  king,  and  brought  it  back, 
with  great  pomp,  to  Jerusalem ;  but  found  the  gate 
walled  up,  and  an  angel  standing  before  it,  who  said, 
•Thou  bringest  back  the  Cross  with  pomp  and  splendour. 
He  that  died  upon  it  had  shame  for  His  companion; 
and  carried  it  on  His  back,  barefooted,  to  Calvary.' 
Then,  says  the  chronicler,  the  emperor  dismounted 
from  his  steed,  cast  off  his  robes,  lifted  the  sacred  Rood 
on  his  shoulders,  and  with  bare  feet  advanced  to  the 
gate,  which  opened  of  itself,  and  he  entered  in. 

We  have  to  go  up  the  steep  rocky  road  that  leads 
from  the  plain  where  the  Dead  Sea  is,  to  Jerusalem. 
Let  us  follow  the  Master,  as  He  strides  before  us,  the 
Forerunner  and  the  Captain  of  our  salvation. 


DIGNITY  AND  SERVICE 

•  And  James  and  John,  the  sons  of  Zehedee,  come  unto  Him,  saying.  Master,  we 
would  that  Thou  shouldest  do  for  us  whatsoever  we  shall  desire.  36.  And  He  said 
unto  them,  What  would  ye  that  I  should  do  for  you?  37.  They  said  unto  Him, 
Grant  unto  us  that  we  may  sit,  one  on  Thy  right  hand,  and  the  other  on  Thy  left 
hand,  in  Thy  glory.  38.  But  Jesus  said  unto  them.  Ye  know  not  what  ye  ask :  can 
ye  drink  of  the  cup  that  I  drink  of?  and  be  baptized  with  the  baptism  that  I  am 
baptized  with  ?  39.  And  they  said  unto  Him,  We  can.  And  Jesus  said  unto  them. 
Ye  shall  indeed  drink  of  the  cup  that  I  drink  of ;  and  with  the  baptism  that  I  am 
baptized  withal  shall  ye  be  baptized :  40.  But  to  sit  on  My  right  hand  and  on  My 
left  hand  is  not  Mine  to  give ;  but  it  shall  be  given  to  them  for  whom  it  is  pre- 
pared. 41.  And  when  the  Ten  heard  it,  they  began  to  be  much  displeased  with 
James  and  John.  42.  But  Jesus  called  them  to  Him,  and  saith  unto  them.  Ye 
know  that  they  which  are  accounted  to  rule  over  the  Gentiles  exercise  lordship  over 
them  ;  and  their  great  ones  exercise  authority  upon  them.  43.  But  so  shall  it  not 
be  among  you:  but  whosoever  will  be  great  among  you,  shall  be  your  minister: 
44.  And  whosoever  of  you  will  be  the  chiefest,  shall  be  servant  of  all.  45.  For  even 
the  Son  of  Man  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto,  but  to  minister,  and  to  give  His 
life  a  ransom  for  many.'— Mark  x.  35-45. 

How  lonely  Jesus  was!  While  He  strode  before  the 
Twelve,  absorbed  in  thoughts  of  the  Cross  to  which 
He  was  pressing,  they,  as  they  followed,  '  amazed '  and 
'afraid,'  were  thinking  not  of  what  He  would  suffer, 
but  of  what  they  might  gain.  He  saw  the  Cross. 
They  understood  little  of  it,  but  supposed  that  some- 
how it  would  bring  in  the  kingdom,  and  they  dimly 
saw  thrones  for  themselves.  Hence  James  and  John 
try  to  secure  the  foremost  places,  and  hence  the  others' 
anger  at  what  they  thought  an  unfair  attempt  to  push 
in  front  of  them.  What  a  contrast  between  Jesus, 
striding  on  ahead  with  'set'  face,  and  the  Twelve 
unsympathetic  and  self-seeking,  lagging  behind  to 
squabble  about  pre-eminence!  We  have  in  this  inci- 
dent two  parts:  the  request  and  its  answer,  the 
indignation  of  the  Ten  and  its  rebuke.  The  one  sets 
forth  the  qualifications  for  the  highest  place  in  the 
kingdom;  the  other,  the  paradox  that  pre-eminence 
there  is  service. 

00 


vs.  35-45]    DIGNITY  AND  SERVICE  91 

James  and  John  were  members  of  the  group  of 
original  disciples  who  stood  nearest  to  Jesus,  and  of 
the  group  of  three  whom  He  kept  specially  at  His 
side.  Their  present  place  might  well  lead  them  to 
expect  pre-eminence  in  the  kingdom,  but  their  trick 
was  mean,  as  being  an  underhand  attempt  to  forestall 
Peter,  the  remaining  one  of  the  three,  as  putting  for- 
ward their  mother  as  spokeswoman,  and  as  endeavour- 
ing to  entrap  Jesus  into  promising  before  the  disclosure 
of  what  was  desired.  Matthew  tells  that  the  mother  was 
brought  in  order  to  make  the  request,  and  that  Jesus 
brushed  her  aside  by  directing  His  answer  to  her  sons 
(*  Ye  know  not  what  ye  ask').  The  attempt  to  get  Jesus' 
promise  without  telling  what  was  desired  betrayed  the 
consciousness  that  the  wish  was  wrong.  His  guarded 
counter-question  would  chill  them  and  make  their  dis- 
closure somewhat  hesitating. 

Note  the  strangely  blended  good  and  evil  of  the 
request.  The  gold  was  mingled  with  clay;  selfishness 
and  love  delighting  in  being  near  Him  had  both  place 
in  it.  We  may  well  recognise  our  own  likenesses  in 
these  two  with  their  love  spotted  with  self-regard,  and 
be  grateful  for  the  gentle  answer  which  did  not  blame 
the  desire  for  pre-eminence,  but  sought  to  test  the  love. 
It  was  not  only  to  teach  them,  that  He  brought  them 
back  to  think  of  the  Cross  which  must  precede  the 
glory,  but  because  His  own  mind  was  so  filled  with  it 
that  He  saw  that  glory  only  as  through  the  darkness 
which  had  to  be  traversed  to  reach  it.  But  for  us  all 
the  question  is  solemn  and  heart-searching. 

Was  not  the  answer, '  We  are  able,'  too  bold  ?  They 
knew  neither  what  they  asked  nor  what  they  pro- 
mised ;  but  just  as  their  ignorant  question  was  partly 
redeemed  by  its  love,  their  ignorant  vow  was  ennobled 


92  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK  [ch.x. 

by  its  very  rashness,  as  well  as  by  the  unfaltering  love 
in  it.  They  did  not  know  what  they  were  promising, 
but  they  knew  that  they  loved  Him  so  well  that  to 
share  anything  with  Him  would  be  blessed.  So  it 
was  not  in  their  own  strength  that  the  swift  answer 
rushed  to  their  lips,  but  in  the  strength  of  a  love 
that  makes  heroes  out  of  cowards.  And  they  nobly 
redeemed  their  pledge.  We,  too,  if  we  are  Christ's, 
have  the  same  question  put  to  us,  and,  weak  and  timid 
as  we  are,  may  venture  to  give  the  same  answer,  trust- 
ing to  His  strength. 

The  full  declaration  of  what  had  been  only  implied 
in  the  previous  question  follows.  Jesus  tells  the  two, 
and  us  all,  that  there  are  degrees  in  nearness  to  Him 
and  in  dignity  in  that  future,  but  that  the  highest 
places  are  not  given  by  favouritism,  but  attained  by 
fitness.  He  does  not  deny  that  He  gives,  but  only  that 
He  gives  without  regard  to  qualification.  Paul  ex- 
pected the  crown  from  'the  righteous  Judge,'  and  one 
of  these  two  brethren  was  chosen  to  record  His  pro- 
mise of  giving  a  seat  on  His  throne  to  all  that  over- 
come. 'Those  for  whom  it  is  prepared'  are  those  who 
are  prepared  for  it,  and  the  preparation  lies  in  '  being 
made  conformable  to  His  death,'  and  being  so  joined 
to  Him  that  in  spirit  and  mind  we  are  partakers  of  His 
sufferings,  whether  we  are  called  to  partake  of  them 
in  outward  form  or  not. 

The  two  had  had  their  lesson,  and  next  the  Ten  were 
to  have  theirs.  The  conversation  with  the  former  had 
been  private,  for  it  was  hearing  of  it  that  made  the 
others  so  angry.  We  can  imagine  the  hot  words 
among  them  as  they  marched  behind  Jesus,  and  how 
they  felt  ashamed  already  when  'He  called  them.' 
What  they  were  to  be  now  taught  was  not  so  much 


vs.  35-45]    DIGNITY  AND  SERVICE  93 

the  qualifications  for  pre-eminence  in  the  kingdom, 
whether  here  or  hereafter,  as  the  meaning  of  pre- 
eminence and  the  service  to  which  it  binds.  In  the 
world,  the  higher  men  are,  the  more  they  are  served ; 
in  Christ's  kingdom,  both  in  its  imperfect  earthly  and 
in  its  perfect  heavenly  form,  the  higher  men  are,  the 
more  they  serve.  So-called  *  Christian '  nations  are 
organised  on  the  former  un-Christian  basis  still.  But 
wherever  pre-eminence  is  not  used  for  the  general 
good,  there  authority  rests  on  slippery  foundations,  and 
there  will  never  be  social  wellbeing  or  national  tran- 
quillity until  Christ's  law  of  dignity  for  service  and 
dignity  by  service  shapes  and  sweetens  society.  '  But 
it  is  not  so  among  you '  laid  down  the  constitution  for 
earth,  and  not  only  for  some  remote  heaven ;  and  every 
infraction  of  it,  sooner  or  later,  brings  a  Nemesis. 

The  highest  is  to  be  the  lowest ;  for  He  who  is  *  higher 
than  the  highest '  has  shown  that  such  is  the  law  which 
He  obeys.  The  point  in  the  heaven  that  is  highest 
above  our  heads  is  in  twelve  hours  deepest  beneath  our 
feet.  Fellowship  in  Christ's  sufferings  was  declared  to 
be  the  qualification  for  our  sharing  in  His  dignity.  His 
lowly  service  and  sacrificial  death  are  now  declared  to 
be  the  pattern  for  our  use  of  dignity.  Still  the  thought 
of  the  Cross  looms  large  before  Jesus,  and  He  is  not 
content  with  presenting  Himself  as  the  pattern  of  ser- 
vice only,  but  calls  on  His  disciples  to  take  Him  as  the 
pattern  of  utter  self-surrender  also.  We  cannot  enter 
on  the  great  teaching  of  these  words,  but  can  only 
beseech  all  who  hear  them  to  note  how  Jesus  sets 
forth  His  death  as  the  climax  of  His  work,  without 
which  even  that  life  of  ministering  were  incomplete ; 
how  He  ascribes  to  it  the  power  of  ransoming  men 
from  bondage  and  buying  them  back  to  God;  and  of 


94  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK  [ch.  x. 

how  He  presents  even  these  unparalleled  sufferings, 
which  bear  or  need  no  repetition  as  long  as  the  world 
lasts,  as  yet  being  the  example  to  which  our  lives  must 
be  conformed.  So  His  lesson  to  the  angry  Ten  merges 
into  that  to  the  self-seeking  two,  and  declares  to  each 
of  us  that,  if  we  are  ever  to  win  a  place  at  His  right 
hand  in  His  glory,  we  must  here  take  a  place  with 
Him  in  imitating  His  life  of  service  and  His  death  of 
self -surrender  for  men's  good.  '  If  we  endure,  we  shall 
also  reign  with  Him.' 


BARTIM^US 

Blind  Bartimseiis,  the  son  of  Timsaus,  sat  by  the  highway  side  begging.' 

Mare  x.  16. 

The  narrative  of  this  miracle  is  contained  in  all  the 
Synoptical  Gospels,  but  the  accounts  differ  in  two 
respects — as  to  the  number  of  men  restored  to  sight, 
and  as  to  the  scene  of  the  miracle.  Matthew  tells  us 
that  there  were  two  men  healed,  and  agrees  with  Mark 
in  placing  the  miracle  as  Jesus  was  leaving  Jericho. 
Mark  says  that  there  was  one,  and  that  the  place  was 
outside  the  gate  in  departing.  Luke,  on  the  other  hand, 
agrees  with  Matthew  as  to  the  number,  and  differs 
from  him  and  Mark  as  to  the  place,  which  he  sets  at 
the  entrance  into  the  city.  The  first  of  these  two  dis- 
crepancies may  very  easily  be  put  aside.  The  greater 
includes  the  less  ;  silence  is  not  contradiction.  To  say 
that  there  was  one  does  not  deny  that  there  were  two. 
And  if  BartimsBus  was  a  Christian,  and  known  to 
Mark's  readers,  as  is  probable  from  the  mention  of  his 
name,  it  is  easily  intelligible  how  he,  being  also  the 
chief  actor  and  spokesman,  should  have  had  Mark's 
attention  concentrated  on  him.  As  to  the  other  dis- 
crepancy, many  attempts  have  been  made  to  remove 
it.  None  of  them  are  altogether  satisfactory.  But 
what  does  it  matter  ?  The  apparent  contradiction  may 
affect  theories  as  to  the  characteristics  of  inspired 
books,  but  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  credibility  of 
the  narratives,  or  with  their  value  for  us. 

Mark's  account  is  evidently  that  of  an  eye-witness. 
It  is  full  of  little  particulars  which  testify  thereto. 
Whether  Bartimseus  had  a  companion  or  not,  he  was 

96 


96  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MAflK  [ch.x. 

obviously  the  chief  actor  and  spokesman.  And  the 
whole  story  seems  to  me  to  lend  itself  to  the  enforce- 
ment of  some  very  important  lessons,  which  I  will  try 
to  draw  from  it. 

I.  Notice  the  beggar's  petition  and  the  attempts  to 
silence  it. 

Remember  that  Jesus  was  now  on  His  last  journey 
to  Jerusalem.  That  night  He  would  sleep  at  Bethany  ; 
Calvary  was  but  a  week  off.  He  had  paused  to  win 
Zacchaeus,  and  now  He  has  resumed  His  march  to  His 
Cross.  Popular  enthusiasm  is  surging  round  Him,  and 
for  the  first  time  He  does  not  try  to  repress  it.  A 
shouting  multitude  are  escorting  Him  out  of  the  city. 
They  have  just  passed  the  gates,  and  are  in  the  act  of 
turning  towards  the  mountain  gorge  through  which 
runs  the  Jerusalem  road.  A  long  file  of  beggars  is 
sitting,  as  beggars  do  still  in  Eastern  cities,  outside  the 
gate,  well  accustomed  to  lift  their  monotonous  wail 
at  the  sound  of  passing  footsteps.  BartimsBus  is 
amongst  them.  He  asks,  according  to  Luke,  what  is 
the  cause  of  the  bustle,  and  is  told  that  *  Jesus  of 
Nazareth  is  passing  by.'  The  name  wakes  strange 
hopes  in  him,  which  can  only  be  accounted  for  by  his 
knowledge  of  Christ's  miracles  done  elsewhere.  It  is 
a  witness  to  their  notoriety  that  they  had  filtered 
down  to  be  the  talk  of  beggars  at  city  gates.  And  so, 
true  to  his  trade,  he  cries,  •  Jesus  .  .  .  have  mercy 
upon  m.el' 

Now,  note  two  or  three  things  about  that  cry.  The 
first  is  the  clear  insight  into  Christ's  place  and  dignity. 
The  multitude  said  to  him,  '  Jesus  of  Nazareth  passeth 
by.'  That  was  all  they  cared  for  or  knew.  He  cried, 
'  Jesus,  thou  Son  of  David,'  distinctly  recognising  our 
Lord's  Messianic  character.  His  power  and  autl  ority, 


V.  46]  BARTIMiEUS  97 

and  on  that  power  and  authority  he  built  a  confidence ; 
for  he  says  not  as  some  other  suppliants  had  done, 
either  '  If  Thou  wilt  Thou  canst,'  or  '  If  Thou  canst  do 
anything,  have  compassion  on  us.'  He  is  surf»  of  both 
the  power  and  the  will. 

Now,  it  is  interesting  to  notice  that  this  same  clear 
insight  other  blind  men  in  the  Evangelist's  story  are 
also  represented  as  having  had.  Blindness  has  its 
compensations.  It  leads  to  a  certain  steadfast  brood- 
ing upon  thoughts,  free  from  disturbing  influences. 
Seeing  Jesus  did  not  produce  faith ;  not  seeing  Him 
seems  to  have  helped  it.  It  left  imagination  to  work 
undisturbed,  and  He  was  all  the  loftier  to  these  blind 
men,  because  the  conceptions  of  their  minds  were  not 
limited  by  the  vision  of  their  eyes.  At  all  events, 
here  is  a  distinct  piece  of  insight  into  Christ's  dignity, 
power,  and  will,  to  which  the  seeing  multitudes  were 
blind. 

Note,  further,  how  in  the  cry  there  throbs  the  sense 
of  need,  deep  and  urgent.  And  note  how  in  it  there 
is  also  the  realisation  of  the  possibility  that  the 
widely -flowing  blessings  of  which  Bartimseus  had 
heard  might  be  concentrated  and  poured,  in  their  full 
flood,  upon  himself.  He  individualises  himself,  his 
need,  Christ's  power  and  willingness  to  help  him.  And 
because  he  has  heard  of  so  many  who  have,  in  like 
manner,  received  His  healing  touch,  he  comes  with  the 
cry, '  Have  mercy  upon  wze.' 

All  this  is  upon  the  low  level  of  physical  blessings 
needed  and  desired.  But  let  us  lift  it  higher.  It  is  a 
mirror  in  which  we  may  see  ourselves,  our  necessities, 
and  the  example  of  what  our  desire  ought  to  be.  Ah  ! 
brethren,  the  deep  consciousness  of  impotence,  need, 
emptiness,  blindness,  lies  at  the  bottom  of  all  true 

VOL.  II.  G 


m  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch-X. 

crying  to  Jesus  Christ.  If  you  have  never  gone  to 
Him,  knowing  yourself  to  be  a  sinful  man,  in  peril, 
present  and  future,  from  your  sin,  and  stained  and 
marred  by  reason  of  it,  you  never  have  gone  to  Him 
in  any  deep  and  adequate  sense  at  all.  Only  when 
I  thus  know  myself  am  I  driven  to  cry,  '  Jesus !  have 
mercy  on  me.'  And  I  ask  you  not  to  answer  to  me,  but 
to  press  the  question  on  your  own  consciences — '  Have 
I  any  experience  of  such  a  sense  of  need ;  or  am  I 
groping  in  the  darkness  and  saying,  I  see  ?  am  I  weak 
as  water,  and  saying  I  am  strong  ? '  '  Thou  knowest 
not  that  thou  art  poor,  and  naked,  and  blind ' ;  and  so 
that  Jesus  of  Nazareth  should  be  passing  by  has  never 
moved  thy  tongue  to  call,  '  Son  of  David,  have  mercy 
upon  me ! ' 

Again,  this  man's  cry  expressed  a  clear  insight  into 
something  at  least  of  our  Lord's  unique  character  and 
power.  Brethren,  unless  we  know  Him  to  be  all  that 
is  involved  in  that  august  title,  '  the  Son  of  David,'  I 
do  not  think  our  cries  to  Him  will  ever  be  very  earnest. 
It  seems  to  me  that  they  will  only  be  so  when,  on  the 
one  hand,  we  recognise  our  need  of  a  Saviour,  and,  on 
the  other  hand,  behold  in  Him  the  Saviour  whom  we 
need.  I  can  quite  understand — and  we  may  see  plenty 
of  illustrations  of  it  all  round  us — a  kind  of  Christianity 
real  as  far  as  it  goes,  but  in  my  judgment  very  super- 
ficial, which  has  no  adequate  conception  of  what  sin 
means,  in  its  depth,  in  its  power  upon  the  victim  of  it, 
or  in  its  consequences  here  and  hereafter;  and,  that 
sense  being  lacking,  the  whole  scale  of  Christianity,  as 
it  were,  is  lowered,  and  Christ  comes  to  be,  not,  as  I 
think  the  New  Testament  tells  us  that  He  is,  the  In- 
carnate Word  of  God,  who  for  us  men  and  for  our 
salvation  *  bare  our  sins  in  His  own  body  on  the  tree,' 


V.  46]  BARTIMiEUS  99 

and  •  was  made  sin  for  us,  that  we  might  be  made  the 
righteousness  of  God  in  Him,'  but  an  Example,  a 
Teacher,  or  a  pure  Model,  or  a  social  Reformer,  or  the 
like.  If  men  think  of  Him  only  as  such,  they  will 
never  cry  to  Him,  '  Have  mercy  upon  me  ! ' 

Dear  friends,  I  pray  you,  whether  you  begin  with 
looking  into  your  own  hearts  and  recognising  the 
crawling  evils  that  have  made  their  home  there,  and 
thence  pass  to  the  thought  of  the  sort  of  Redeemer 
that  you  need  and  find  in  Christ — or  whether  you 
begin  at  the  other  side,  and,  looking  upon  the  revealed 
Christ  in  all  the  fulness  in  which  He  is  represented  to 
us  in  the  Gospels,  from  thence  go  back  to  ask  your- 
selves the  question,  '  What  sort  of  man  must  I  be,  if 
that  is  the  kind  of  Saviour  that  I  need  ? ' — I  pray  you 
ever  to  blend  these  two  things  together,  the  conscious- 
ness of  your  own  need  of  redemption  in  His  blood  and 
the  assurance  that  by  His  death  we  are  redeemed,  and 
then  to  cry,  '  Lord !  have  mercy  upon  me,'  and  claim 
your  individual  share  in  the  wide-flowing  blessing. 
Turn  all  the  generalities  of  His  grace  into  the  par- 
ticularity of  your  own  possession  of  it.  We  have  to 
go  one  by  one  to  His  cross,  and  one  by  one  to  pass 
through  the  wicket  gate.  We  have  not  cried  to  Him 
as  we  ought,  if  our  cry  is  only  'Christ,  have  mercy 
upon  us.  Lord,  have  mercy  upon  us.  Christ,  have 
mercy  upon  us.'  We  must  be  alone  with  Him,  that 
into  our  own  hearts  we  may  receive  all  the  fulness  of 
His  blessing ;  and  our  petition  must  be  *  Thou  Son  of 
David !  have  mercy  upon  me.'    Have  you  cried  that  ? 

Notice,  further,  the  attempts  to  stifle  the  cry.  No 
doubt  it  was  in  defence  of  the  Master's  dignity,  as  they 
construed  it,  that  the  people  sought  to  silence  the  per- 
sistent, strident  voice  piercing  through  their  hosannas. 


100  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK  [ch.  x. 

Ah !  they  did  not  know  that  the  cry  of  wretchedness 
was  far  sweeter  to  Him  than  their  shallow  hallelujahs. 
Christian  people  of  all  churches,  and  of  some  stiffened 
churches  very  especially,  have  been  a  great  deal  more 
careful  of  Christ's  dignity  than  He  is,  and  have  felt  that 
their  formal  worship  was  indecorously  disturbed  when 
by  chance  some  earnest  voice  forced  its  way  through  it 
with  the  cry  of  need  and  desire.  But  this  man  had  been 
accustomed  for  many  a  day,  sitting  outside  the  gate,  to 
reiterate  his  petition  when  it  was  unattended  to,  and  to 
make  it  heard  amidst  the  noise  of  passers-by.  So  he 
was  persistently  bold  and  importunate  and  sliameless, 
as  the  shallow  critics  thought,  in  his  crying.  The  more 
they  silenced  him,  the  more  a  great  deal  he  cried. 
Would  God  that  we  had  more  crying  like  that ;  and 
that  Christ's  servants  did  not  so  often  seek  to  suppress 
it,  as  some  of  them  do !  If  there  are  any  of  you  who, 
by  reason  of  companions,  or  cares,  or  habits,  or  sorrows, 
or  a  feeble  conception  of  your  own  need  or  a  doubtful 
recognition  of  Christ's  power  and  mercy,  have  been 
tempted  to  stop  your  supplications,  do  like  Bartimaeus, 
and  the  more  these,  your  enemies,  seek  to  silence  the 
deepest  voice  that  is  in  you,  the  more  let  it  speak. 

II.  So,  notice  Christ's  call  and  the  suppliant's  re- 
sponse. 

'He  stood  still,  and  commanded  him  to  be  called.' 
Remember  that  He  was  on  His  road  to  His  Cross,  and 
that  the  tension  of  spirit  which  the  Evangelists  notice 
as  attaching  to  Him  then,  and  which  filled  the  disciples 
with  awe  as  they  followed  Him,  absorbed  Him,  no 
doubt,  at  that  hour,  so  that  He  heard  but  little  of  the 
people's  shouts.  But  He  did  hear  the  blind  beggar's 
cry,  and  He  arrested  His  march  in  order  to  attend 
to  it. 


V.  46]  BARTIMiEUS  101 

Now,  dear  friends,  I  am  not  merely  twisting  a 
Biblical  incident  round  to  an  interpretation  which  it 
does  not  bear,  but  am  stating  a  plain  un-rhetorical 
truth  when  I  say  that  it  is  so  still.  Jesus  Christ 
is  no  dead  Christ  who  is  to  be  remembered  only.  He 
is  a  living  Christ  who,  at  this  moment,  is  all  that 
He  ever  was,  and  is  doing  in  loftier  fashion  all  the 
gracious  things  that  He  did  upon  earth.  That  pause 
of  the  King  is  repeated  now,  and  the  quick  ear  which 
discerned  the  difference  between  the  unreal  shouts  of 
the  crowd,  and  the  agony  of  sincerity  in  the  cry  of  the 
beggar,  is  still  open.  He  is  in  the  heavens,  surrounded 
by  its  glories,  and,  as  I  think  Scripture  teaches  us, 
■'vielding  providence  and  administering  the  affairs  of 
the  universe.  He  does  not  need  to  pause  in  order  to 
hear  you  and  me.  If  He  did.  He  would — if  I  may 
venture  upon  such  an  impossible  supposition — bid  the 
hallelujahs  of  heaven  hush  themselves,  and  suspend 
the  operations  of  His  providence  if  need  were,  rather 
than  that  you  or  I,  or  any  poor  man  who  cries  to  Him, 
should  be  unheard  and  unhelped.  The  living  Christ  is 
as  tender  a  friend,  has  as  quick  an  ear,  is  as  ready  to 
help  at  once,  to-day,  as  He  was  when  outside  the  gate 
of  Jericho ;  and  every  one  of  us  may  lift  his  or  her 
poor,  thin  voice,  and  it  will  go  straight  up  to  the 
throne,  and  not  be  lost  in  the  clamour  of  the  halle- 
lujahs that  echo  round  His  seat.  Christ  still  hears  and 
answers  the  cry  of  need.  Send  you  it  up,  and  you  will 
find  that  true. 

Notice  the  suppliant's  response.  That  is  a  very 
characteristic  right-about-face  of  the  crowd,  who  one 
moment  were  saying,  'Hold  your  tongue  and  do  not 
disturb  Him,'  and  the  next  moment  were  all  eager  to 
encumber  him  with  help,  and  to  say,  *  Rise  up,  be  of 


102  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK  [oh.  x. 

good  cheer ;  He  calleth  thee.'  No  thanks  to  them  that 
He  did.  And  what  did  the  man  do  ?  Sprang  to  his 
feet — as  the  word  rightly  rendered  would  be — and 
flung  away  the  frowsy  rags  that  he  had  wrapped  round 
him  for  warmth  and  softness  of  seat,  as  he  waited  at 
the  gate ;  *  and  he  came  to  Jesus.'  Brethren,  *  casting 
aside  every  weight  and  the  sin  that  doth  so  easily 
beset  us,  let  us  run '  to  the  same  Refuge.  You  have  to 
abandon  something  if  you  are  to  go  to  Christ  to  be 
healed.  I  dare  say  you  know  well  enough  what  it  is. 
I  do  not ;  but  certainly  there  is  something  that 
entangles  your  legs  and  keeps  you  from  finding  your 
way  to  Him.  If  there  is  nothing  else,  there  is  yourself 
and  your  trust  in  self,  and  that  is  to  be  put  away. 
Cast  away  the  '  garment  spotted  with  the  flesh '  and  go 
to  Christ,  and  you  will  receive  succour. 

III.  Notice  the  question  of  all-granting  love,  and  the 
answer  of  conscious  need. 

•  What  wilt  Thou  that  I  should  do  unto  thee  ? '  A 
very  few  hours  before  He  had  put  the  same  question 
with  an  entirely  different  significance,  when  the  sons 
of  Zebedee  came  to  Him,  and  tried  to  get  Him  to  walk 
blindfold  into  a  promise.  He  upset  their  scheme  with 
the  simple  question,  '  What  is  it  that  you  want  ? ' 
which  meant,  *I  must  know  and  judge  before  I  commit 
Myself.'  But  when  He  said  the  same  thing  to  Bar- 
timseus  He  meant  exactly  the  opposite.  It  was  putting 
the  key  of  the  treasure-house  into  the  beggar's  hand. 
It  was  the  implicit  pledge  that  whatever  he  desired  he 
should  receive.  He  knew  that  the  thing  this  man 
wanted  was  the  thing  that  He  delighted  to  give. 

But  the  tenderness  of  these  words,  and  the  gracious 
promise  that  is  hived  in  them,  must  not  make  us  forget 
the  singular  authority  that  speaks  in  them.    Think  of  a 


V.  46]  BARTIMiEUS  108 

man  doing  as  Jesus  Christ  did — standing  before  another 
and  saying,  '  I  will  give  you  anything  that  you  want.' 
He  must  be  either  a  madman  or  a  blasphemer,  or  *  God 
manifest  in  the  flesh ' ;  Almighty  power  guided  by  in- 
finite love. 

And  what  said  the  man  ?  He  had  no  doubt  what  he 
wanted  most — the  opening  of  these  blind  eyes  of  his. 
And,  dear  brother,  if  we  knew  ourselves  as  well  as 
Bartimseus  knew  his  blindness,  we  should  have  as  little 
doubt  what  it  is  that  we  need  most.  Suppose  you  had 
this  wishing-cap  that  Christ  put  on  Bartimseus's  head 
put  on  yours :  what  would  you  ask  ?  It  is  a  penetrat- 
ing question  if  men  will  answer  it  honestly.  Think 
what  you  consider  to  be  your  chief  need.  Suppose 
Jesus  Christ  stood  where  I  stand,  and  spoke  to  you: 
'  What  wilt  thou  that  I  should  do  for  you  ? '  If  you 
are  a  wise  man,  if  you  know  yourself  and  Him,  your 
answer  will  come  as  swiftly  as  the  beggar's — '  Lord ! 
heal  me  of  my  blindness,  and  take  away  my  sin,  and 
give  me  Thy  salvation.'  There  is  no  doubt  about  what 
it  is  that  every  one  of  us  needs  most.  And  there 
should  be  no  doubt  as  to  what  each  of  us  would  ask 
first. 

The  supposition  that  I  have  been  making  is  realised. 
That  graciaus  Lord  is  here,  and  is  ready  to  give  you 
the  satisfaction  of  your  deepest  need,  if  you  know 
what  it  is,  and  will  go  to  Him  for  it.  *  Ask !  and  ye 
shall  receive.' 

IV.  Lastly,  notice,  sight  given,  and  the  Giver  fol- 
lowed. 

Bartimseus  had  scarcely  ended  speaking  when  Christ 
began.  He  was  blind  at  the  beginning  of  Christ's  little 
sentence ;  he  saw  at  the  end  of  it.  •  Go  thy  way ;  thy 
faith  hath  saved  thee.'     The  answer  came  instantly, 


104  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK  [ch.  x. 

and  the  cure  was  as  immediate  as  the  movement  of 
Christ's  heart  in  answer. 

I  am  here  to  proclaim  the  possibility  of  an  imme- 
diate passage  from  darkness  to  light.  Some  folk  look 
askance  at  us  when  we  talk  about  sudden  conversions, 
but  these  are  perfectly  reasonable  ;  and  the  experience 
of  thousands  asserts  that  they  are  actual.  As  soon 
as  we  desire,  we  have,  and  as  soon  as  we  have,  we  see. 
Whenever  the  lungs  are  opened  the  air  rushes  in; 
sometimes  the  air  opens  the  lungs  that  it  may.  The 
desire  is  all  but  contemporaneous  with  the  fulfilment, 
in  Christ's  dealing  with  men.  The  message  is  flashed 
along  the  wire  from  earth  to  heaven,  in  an  incalcul- 
ably brief  space  of  time,  and  the  answer  comes,  swift 
as  thought  and  swifter  than  light.  So,  dear  friends, 
there  is  no  reason  whatever  why  a  similar  instan- 
taneous change  should  not  pass  over  any  man  who 
hears  the  Good  News.  He  may  be  unsaved  when  his 
hearing  of  it  begins,  and  saved  when  his  hearing  of  it 
ends.  It  is  for  himself  to  settle  whether  it  shall  be  so 
or  not. 

Here  we  have  a  clear  statement  of  the  path  by 
which  Christ's  mercy  rushes  into  a  man's  soul.  '  Thy 
faith  hath  saved  thee.'  But  it  was  Christ's  power  that 
saved  him.  Yes,  it  was  ;  but  it  was  faith  that  made 
it  possible  for  Christ's  power  to  make  him  whole. 
Physical  miracles  indeed  did  not  always  require  trust 
in  Christ,  as  a  preceding  condition,  but  the  possession 
of  Christ's  salvation  does,  and  cannot  but  do  so.  There 
must  be  trust  in  Him,  in  order  that  we  may  partake  of 
the  salvation  which  is  owing  solely  to  His  power,  His 
love,  His  work  upon  the  Cross.  The  condition  is  for 
us ;  the  power  comes  from  Him.  My  faith  is  the  hand 
that  grasps  His;  it  is  His  hand,  not  mine,  that  holds 


V.  46]  BARTIM^US  105 

me  up.  My  faith  lays  hold  of  the  rope  ;  it  is  the  rope 
and  the  Person  above  who  holds  it,  that  lift  me  out  of 
the  *  horrible  pit  and  the  miry  clay.'  My  faith  flees  for 
refuge  to  the  city;  it  is  the  city  that  keeps  me  safe 
from  the  avenger  of  blood.  Brother !  exercise  that 
faith,  and  you  will  receive  a  better  sight  than  was 
poured  into  Bartimaeus's  eyes. 

Now,  all  this  story  should  be  the  story  of  each  one  of 
us.  One  modification  we  have  to  make  upon  it,  for  we 
do  not  need  to  cry  persistently  for  mercy,  but  to  trust 
in,  and  to  take,  the  mercy  that  is  offered.  One  other 
difference  there  is  between  Bartimseus  and  many  of 
my  hearers.  He  knew  what  he  needed,  and  some  of 
you  do  not.  But  Christ  is  calling  us  all,  and  my  busi- 
ness now  is  to  say  to  each  of  you  what  the  crowd  said  to 
the  beggar,  '  Rise !  be  of  good  cheer ;  He  calleth  thee.' 
If  you  will  fling  away  your  hindrances,  and  grope  your 
path  to  His  feet,  and  fall  down  before  Him,  knowing 
your  deep  necessity,  and  trusting  to  Him  to  supply  it, 
He  will  save  you.  Your  new  sight  will  gaze  upon 
your  Redeemer,  and  you  will  follow  Him  in  the  way  of 
loving  trust  and  glad  obedience. 

Jesus  Christ  was  passing  by.  He  was  never  to  be  in 
Jericho  any  more.  If  Bartimseus  did  not  get  His  sight 
then,  he  would  be  blind  all  his  days.  Christ  and  His 
salvation  are  offered  to  thee,  my  brother,  now.  Per- 
haps if  you  let  Him  pass,  you  will  never  hear  Him  call 
again,  and  may  abide  in  the  darkness  for  ever.  Do 
not  run  the  risk  of  such  a  fate. 


AN  EAGER  COMING 

'And  he,  casting  away  his  garment,  rose,  and  came  to  Jesns.'— Mabk  x.  50. 

Mark's  vivid  picture — long  wail  of  the  man,  crowd 
silencing  him,  but  wheeling  round  when  Christ  calls 
him — and  the  quick  energy  of  the  beggar,  flinging 
away  his  cloak,  springing  to  his  feet — and  blind  as  he 
was,  groping  his  way. 

I.  What  we  mean  by  coming  to  Jesus  : — faith,  com- 
munion, occupation  of  mind,  heart,  and  will. 

II.  How  eagerly  we  shall  come  when  we  are  con- 
scious of  need.  This  man  wanted  his  eyesight :  do  we 
not  want  too  ? 

III.  We  must  throw  off  our  hindrances  if  we  would 
come  to  Him.  Impediments  of  various  kinds.  '  Lay 
aside  every  weight' — not  only  sins,  but  even  right 
things  that  hinder.  Occupations,  pursuits,  affections, 
possessions,  sometimes  have  to  be  put  away  alto- 
gether ;  sometimes  but  to  be  minimised  and  kept  in 
restraint.  There  is  no  virtue  in  self-denial  except  as 
it  helps  us  to  come  nearer  Him. 

IV.  We  must  do  it  with  quick,  glad  energy.  Barti- 
mseus  springs  to  his  feet  at  once  with  a  bound.  So 
we  should  leap  to  meet  Jesus,  our  sight-giver.  How 
slothful  and  languid  we  often  are.  We  do  not  put  half 
as  much  heart  into  our  Christian  life  as  people  do  into 
common  things.  Far  more  pains  are  taken  by  a  ballet- 
dancer  to  learn  her  posturing  than  by  most  Christians 
to  keep  near  Christ. 


MB 


LOVE'S  QUESTION 

•  What  wilt  thou  that  I  should  do  unto  thee  t  '—Mark  x,  61. 
'What  wilt  Thou  haye  me  to  do  i  '—Acts  ix.  6. 

Christ  asks  the  first  question  of  a  petitioner,  and  the 
answer  is  a  prayer  for  sight.  Saul  asks  the  second 
question  of  Jesus,  and  the  answer  is  a  command. 
Different  as  they  are,  we  may  bring  them  together. 
The  one  is  the  voice  of  love,  desiring  to  be  besought  in 
order  that  it  may  bestow ;  the  other  is  the  voice  of  love, 
desiring  to  be  commanded  in  order  that  it  may  obey. 

Love  delights  in  knowing,  expressing,  and  fulfilling 
the  beloved's  wishes. 

I.  The  communion  of  Love  delights  on  both  sides 
in  knowing  the  beloved's  wishes.  Christ  delights  in 
knowing  ours.  He  encourages  us  to  speak  though  He 
knows,  because  it  is  pleasant  to  Him  to  hear,  and  good 
for  us  to  tell.    His  children  delight  in  knowing  His  will. 

II.  It  delights  in  expressing  wishes — His  command- 
ments are  the  utterance  of  His  Love  :  His  Providences 
are  His  loving  ways  of  telling  us  what  He  desires  of  us, 
and  if  we  love  Him  as  we  ought,  both  commandments 
and  providences  will  be  received  by  us  as  lovers  do 
gifts  that  have  '  with  my  love '  written  on  them. 

On  the  other  hand,  our  love  will  delight  in  telling 
Him  what  we  wish,  and  to  speak  all  our  hearts  to  Jesus 
will  be  our  instinct  in  the  measure  of  our  love  to  Him. 

III.  It  delights  in  fulfilling  wishes  —  puts  key  of 
treasure-house  into  our  hands.  He  refused  John  and 
James.  Be  sure  that  He  does  still  delight  to  give  us 
our  desires,  and  so  be  sure  that  when  any  of  these  are 

107 


108  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK  [ch.  x. 

not  granted  there  must  be  some  loving  reason  for 
refusal. 

Our  delight  should  be  in  obedience,  and  only  when 
our  wills  are  submitted  to  His  does  He  say  to  us,  'What 
wilt  thou  ? '  *  If  ye  abide  in  Me  and  My  words  abide 
in  you,  ye  shall  ask  what  ye  will  and  it  shall  be  done 
unto  you.' 


A  ROYAL  PROGRESS 

*. . .  Go  your  way  into  the  village  over  against  you :  and  aa  soon  as  ye  be  entered 
into  it,  ye  shall  find  a  colt  tied,  whereon  never  man  sat ;  loose  him,  and  bring  him.' 
—Mark  xi.  2. 

Two  considerations  help  us  to  appreciate  this  remark- 
able incident  of  our  Lord's  triumphal  entry  into  Jeru- 
salem. The  first  of  these  is  its  date.  It  apparently 
occurred  on  the  Sunday  of  the  Passion  Week.  The 
Friday  saw  the  crosses  on  Calvary.  The  night  before, 
Jesus  had  sat  at  the  modest  feast  that  was  prepared 
in  Bethany,  where  Lazarus  was  one  of  the  guests, 
Martha  was  the  busy  servant,  and  Mary  poured  out  the 
lavish  treasures  of  her  love  upon  His  feet.  The  resur- 
rection of  Lazarus  had  created  great  popular  excite- 
ment ;  and  that  excitement  is  the  second  consideration 
which  throws  light  upon  this  incident.  The  people  had 
rallied  round  Christ,  and,  consequently,  the  hatred  of 
the  official  and  ecclesiastical  class  had  been  raised  to 
boiling-point.  It  was  at  that  time  that  our  Lord 
deliberately  presented  Himself  before  the  nation  as 
the  Messiah,  and  stirred  up  still  more  this  popular 
enthusiasm.  Now,  if  we  keep  these  two  things  in  view, 
I  think  we  shall  be  at  the  right  point  from  which  to 
consider  the  whole  incident.  To  it,  and  not  merely  to 
the  words  which  I  have  chosen  as  our  starting-point, 
I  wish  to  draw  attention  now.  I  am  mistaken  if  there 
are  not  in  it  very  important  and  practical  lessons  for 
ourselves. 

I.  First,  note  that  deliberate  assumption  by  Christ  of 
royal  authority. 

I  shall  have  a  good  deal  to  say  presently  about  the 

100 


110  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xi. 

main  fact  which  bears  upon  that,  but  in  the  meantime 
I  would  note,  in  passing,  a  subsidiary  illustration  of  it, 
in  the  errand  on  which  He  sent  these  messengers  to 
the  little  'village  over  against'  them  ;  and  in  the  words 
which  He  put  into  their  mouths.  They  were  to  go, 
and,  without  a  word,  to  loose  and  bring  away  the  colt 
fastened  at  a  door,  where  it  was  evidently  waiting  the 
convenience  of  its  owner  to  mount  it.  If,  as  was 
natural,  any  objection  or  question  was  raised,  they 
were  to  answer  exactly  as  servants  of  a  king  would 
do,  if  he  sent  them  to  make  requisition  on  the  property 
of  his  subjects,  *  The  Lord  hath  need  of  him.' 

I  do  not  dwell  on  our  Lord's  supernatural  knowledge 
as  coming  out  here ;  nor  on  the  fact  that  the  owner  of 
the  colt  was  probably  a  partial  disciple,  perhaps  a 
secret  one  —  ready  to  recognise  the  claim  that  was 
made.  But  I  ask  you  to  notice  here  the  assertion,  in 
act  and  word,  of  absolute  authority,  to  which  all 
private  convenience  and  rights  of  possession  are  to 
give  way  unconditionally.  The  Sovereign's  need  is  a 
sovereign  reason.  What  He  requires  He  has  a  right  to 
take.  Well  for  us,  brethren,  if  we  yield  as  glad,  as 
swift,  and  as  unquestioning  obedience  to  His  claims 
upon  us,  and  upon  our  possessions,  as  that  poor  peasant 
of  Bethphage  gave  in  the  incident  before  us  ! 

But  there  is  not  only  the  assertion,  here,  of  absolute 
authority,  but  note  how,  side  by  side  with  this  royal 
style,  there  goes  the  acknowledgment  of  poverty. 
Here  is  a  pauper  King,  who  having  nothing  yet 
possesses  all  things.  'The  Lord' — that  is  a  great  title 
— 'hath  need  of  him' — that  is  a  strange  verb  to  go 
with  such  a  nominative.  But  this  little  sentence,  in 
its  two  halves  of  authority  and  of  dependence,  puts 
into  four  words  the  whole  blessed  paradox  of  the  life 


V.  2]  A  ROYAL  PROGRESS  111 

of  Jesus  Christ  upon  earth.  '  Though  He  was  rich,  yet 
for  our  sakes  He  became  poor ' ;  and  being  Lord  and 
Owner  of  all  things,  yet  owed  His  daily  bread  to  , 
ministering  women,  borrowed  a  boat  to  preach  from, 
a  house  wherein  to  lay  His  head,  a  shroud  and  a  wind- 
ing-sheet to  enfold  His  corpse,  a  grave  in  which  to  lie, 
and  from  which  to  rise,  *  the  Lord  of  the  dead  and  of 
the  living.' 

Not  only  so,  but  there  is  another  thought  suggested 
by  these  words.  The  accurate,  or,  at  least,  the  probable 
reading,  of  one  part  of  the  third  verse  is  given  in  the 
Revised  Version,  '  Say  ye  that  the  Lord  hath  need  of 
him,  and  straightway  he  will  send  him  hack  hither.' 
That  is  to  say,  these  last  words  are  not  Christ's  assur- 
ance to  His  two  messengers  that  their  embassy  would 
succeed,  but  part  of  the  message  which  He  sends  by 
them  to  the  owner  of  the  colt,  telling  him  that  it  was  | 
only  a  loan  which  was  to  be  returned.  Jesus  Christ  is  ' 
debtor  to  no  man.  Anything  given  to  Him  comes  back 
again.  Possessions  yielded  to  that  Lord  are  recom- 
pensed a  hundredfold  in  this  life,  if  in  nothing  else  in 
that  there  is  a  far  greater  sAveetness  in  that  which 
still  remains.  '  What  I  gave  I  have,'  said  the  wise  old 
epitaph.  It  is  always  true.  Do  you  not  think  that 
the  owner  of  the  patient  beast,  on  which  Christ  placidly 
paced  into  Jerusalem  on  His  peaceful  triumph,  would 
be  proud  all  his  days  of  the  use  to  which  his  animal 
had  been  put,  and  would  count  it  as  a  treasure  for  the 
rest  of  its  life?  If  you  and  I  will  yield  our  gifts  to 
Him,  and  lay  them  upon  His  altar,  be  sure  of  this, 
that  the  altar  will  ennoble  and  will  sanctify  all  that  is 
laid  upon  it.  All  that  we  have  rendered  to  Him  gains 
fragrance  from  His  touch,  and  comes  back  to  us  tenfold 
more  precious  because  He  has  condescended  to  use  it. 


112  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xi. 

So,  brethren,  He  still  moves  amongst  us,  asking  for 
our  surrender  of  ourselves  and  of  our  possessions  to 
Him,  and  pledging  Himself  that  we  shall  lose  nothing 
by  what  we  give  to  Him,  but  shall  be  infinitely  gainers 
by  our  surrender.  He  still  needs  us.  Ah  !  if  He  is  ever 
to  march  in  triumph  through  the  world,  and  be  hailed 
by  the  hosannas  of  all  the  tribes  of  the  earth,  it  is 
requisite  for  that  triumph  that  His  children  should 
surrender  first  themselves,  and  then  all  that  they  are, 
and  all  that  they  have,  to  Him.  To  us  there  comes  the 
message, '  The  Lord  hath  need  of  you.'  Let  us  see  that 
we  answer  as  becomes  us. 

But  then,  more  important  is  the  other  instance  here 
of  this  assertion  of  royal  authority.  I  have  already 
said  that  we  shall  not  rightly  understand  it  unless  we 
take  into  full  account  the  state  of  popular  feeling  at 
the  time.  We  find  in  John's  Gospel  great  stress  laid 
on  the  movement  of  curiosity  and  half-belief  which 
followed  on  the  resurrection  of  Lazarus.  He  tells  us 
that  crowds  came  out  from  Jerusalem  the  night  before 
to  gaze  upon  the  Lifebringer  and  the  quickened  man. 
He  also  tells  us  that  another  enthusiastic  crowd  flocked 
out  of  Jerusalem  before  Jesus  sent  for  the  colt  to  the 
neighbouring  village.  We  are  to  keep  in  mind,  there- 
fore, that  what  He  did  here  was  done  in  the  midst  of  a 
great  outburst  of  popular  enthusiasm.  We  are  to  keep 
in  mind,  too,  the  season  of  Passover,  when  religion  and 
patriotism,  which  were  so  closely  intertwined  in  the 
life  of  the  Jews,  were  in  full  vigorous  exercise.  It  was 
always  a  time  of  anxiety  to  the  Roman  authorities, 
lest  this  fiery  people  should  break  out  into  insurrec- 
tion. Jerusalem  at  the  Passover  was  like  a  great 
magazine  of  combustibles,  and  into  it  Jesus  flung  a 
lighted   brand  amongst   the   inflammable   substances 


V.  2]  A  ROYAL  PROGRESS  113 

that  were  gathered  there.  We  have  to  remember,  too, 
that  all  His  life  long  He  had  gone  exactly  on  the 
opposite  tack.  Remember  how  He  betook  Himself 
to  the  mountain  solitudes  when  they  wanted  to  make 
Him  a  king.  Remember  how  He  was  always  damping 
down  Messianic  enthusiasm.  But  here,  all  at  once,  He 
reverses  His  whole  conduct,  and  deliberately  sets  Him- 
self to  make  the  most  public  and  the  most  exciting 
possible  demonstration  that  He  was  '  King  of  Israel.' 

For  what  was  it  that  He  did  ?  Our  Evangelist  here 
does  not  quote  the  prophecy  from  Zechariah,  but 
two  other  Evangelists  do.  Our  Lord  then  deliber- 
ately dressed  Himself  by  the  mirror  of  prophecy,  and 
assumed  the  very  characteristics  which  the  prophet 
had  given  long  ago  as  the  mark  of  the  coming  King 
of  Zion.  If  He  had  wanted  to  excite  a  popular  com- 
motion, that  is  what  He  would  have  done. 

Why  did  He  act  thus?  He  was  under  no  illusion  as 
to  what  would  follow.  For  the  night  before  He  had 
said :  '  She  hath  come  beforehand  to  anoint  My  body 
for  the  burial.'  He  knew  what  was  close  before  Him 
in  the  future.  And,  because  He  knew  that  the  end  was 
at  hand,  He  felt  that,  once  at  least,  it  was  needful  that 
He  should  present  Himself  solemnly,  publicly,  I  may 
almost  say  ostentatiously,  before  the  gathered  nation, 
as  being  of  a  truth  the  Fulfiller  and  the  fulfilment  of 
all  the  prophecies  and  the  hopes  built  upon  them  that 
had  burned  in  Israel,  with  a  smoky  flame  indeed,  but 
for  so  many  ages.  He  also  wanted  to  bring  the  rulers  to 
a  point.  I  dare  not  say  that  He  precipitated  His  death, 
or  provoked  a  conflict,  but  I  do  say  that  deliberately, 
and  with  a  clear  understanding  of  what  He  was  doing, 
He  took  a  step  which  forced  them  to  show  their  hand. 
For  after  such  a  public  avowal  of  who  He  was,  and 
VOL.  IL  H 


114  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xi. 

such  public  hosannas  surging  round  His  meek  feet  as 
He  rode  into  the  city,  there  were  but  two  courses  open 
for  the  official  class :  either  to  acknowledge  Him,  or  to 
murder  Him.  Therefore  He  reversed  His  usual  action, 
and  deliberately  posed,  by  His  own  act,  as  claiming  to 
be  the  Messiah  long  prophesied  and  long  expected. 

Now,  what  do  you  think  of  the  man  that  did  that  ? 
If  He  did  it,  then  either  He  is  what  the  rulers  called 
Him,  a  *  deceiver,' swollen  with  inordinate  vanity  and 
unfit  to  be  a  teacher,  or  else  we  must  fall  at  His 
feet  and  say  '  Rabbi !  Thou  art  the  Son  of  God ;  Thou 
art  the  King  of  Israel.'  I  venture  to  believe  that  to 
extol  Him  and  to  deny  the  validity  of  His  claims  is 
in  flagrant  contradiction  to  the  facts  of  His  life,  and 
is  an  unreasonable  and  untenable  position. 

II.  Notice  the  revelation  of  a  new  kind  of  King  and 
Kingdom. 

Our  Evangelist,  from  whom  my  text  is  taken,  has 
nothing  to  say  about  Zechariah's  prophecy  which  our 
Lord  set  Himself  to  fulfil.  He  only  dwells  on  the 
pathetic  poverty  of  the  pomp  of  the  procession.  But 
other  Evangelists  bring  into  view  the  deeper  meaning 
of  the  incident.  The  centre-point  of  the  prophecy,  and 
of  Christ's  intentional  fulfilment  of  it,  lies  in  the  symbol 
of  the  meek  and  patient  animal  which  He  bestrode. 
The  ass  was,  indeed,  used  sometimes  in  old  days  by 
rulers  and  judges  in  Israel,  but  the  symbol  was  chosen 
by  the  prophet  simply  to  bring  out  the  peacefulness 
and  the  gentleness  inherent  in  the  Kingdom,  and  the 
King  who  thus  advanced  into  His  city.  If  you  want 
to  understand  the  meaning  of  the  prophet's  emblem, 
you  have  only  to  remember  the  sculptured  slabs  of 
Assyria  and  Babylon,  or  the  paintings  on  the  walls  of 
Egyptian  temples  and  tombs,  where  Sennacherib  or 


V.  2]  A  ROYAL  PROGRESS  115 

Rameses  ride  hurtling  in  triumph  in  their  chariots, 
over  the  bodies  of  prostrate  foes ;  and  then  to  set  by 
the  side  of  these,  '  Rejoice !  O  daughter  of  Zion ;  thy 
King  Cometh  unto  thee  riding  upon  an  ass,  and  upon 
a  colt  the  foal  of  an  ass,'  If  we  want  to  understand 
the  significance  of  this  sweet  emblem,  we  need  only, 
further,  remember  the  psalm  that,  with  poetic  fervour, 
invokes  the  King :  '  Gird  Thy  sword  upon  Thy  thigh, 
O  Most  Mighty,  and  in  Thy  majesty  ride  prosperously 
.  .  .  and  Thy  right  hand  shall  teach  thee  terrible  things. 
Thine  arrows  are  sharp  in  the  heart  of  the  King's 
enemies  ;  the  people  fall  under  Thee.'  That  is  all  that 
that  ancient  singer  could  conceive  of  the  triumphant 
King  of  the  world,  the  Messiah;  a  conqueror,  enthroned 
in  His  chariot,  and  the  twanging  bowstring,  drawn  by 
His  strong  hand,  impelling  the  arrow  that  lodged  in 
the  heart  of  His  foes.  And  here  is  the  fulfilment. 
*  Go  ye  into  the  village  over  against  you,  and  ye  shall 
find  a  colt  tied.  .  .  .  And  they  set  Him  thereon.' 
Christ's  kingdom,  like  its  King,  has  no  power  but 
gentleness  and  the  omnipotence  of  patient  love. 

If  •  Christian '  nations,  as  they  are  called,  and 
Churches  had  kept  the  significance  of  that  emblem 
in  mind,  do  you  think  that  their  hosannas  would 
have  gone  up  so  often  for  conquerors  on  the  battle- 
fields; or  that  Christian  communities  would  have 
been  in  complicity  with  war  and  the  glorifying 
thereof,  as  they  have  been?  And,  if  Christian  churches 
had  remembered  and  laid  to  heart  the  meaning  of  this 
triumphal  entry,  and  its  demonstration  of  where  the 
power  of  the  Master  lay,  would  they  have  struck  up 
such  alliances  with  worldly  powers  and  forms  of  force 
as,  alas  !  have  weakened  and  corrupted  the  Church  for 
hundreds  of  years  ?    Surely,  surely,  there  is  no  more 


116  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xi. 

manifest  condemnation  of  war  and  the  warlike  spirit, 
and  of  the  spirit  which  finds  the  strength  of  Christ's 
Church  in  anything  material  and  violent,  than  is  that 
solitary  instance  of  His  assumption  of  royal  state  when 
thus  He  entered  into  His  city.  I  need  not  say  a  word, 
brethren,  about  the  nature  of  Christ's  kingdom  as  em- 
bodied in  His  subjects,  as  represented  in  that  shouting 
multitude  that  marched  around  Him.  How  Caesar  in  his 
golden  house  in  Rome  would  have  sneered  and  smiled  at 
the  Jewish  peasant,  on  the  colt,  and  surrounded  by  poor 
men,  who  had  no  banners  but  the  leafy  branches  from 
the  trees,  and  no  pomp  to  strew  in  his  way  but  their 
own  worn  garments !  And  yet  these  were  stronger  in 
their  devotion,  in  their  enthusiastic  conviction  that  He 
was  the  King  of  Israel  and  of  the  whole  earth,  than 
Csesar,  with  all  his  treasures  and  with  all  his  legions 
and  their  sharp  swords.  Christ  accepts  poor  homage 
because  He  looks  for  hearts ;  and  whatever  the  heart 
renders  is  sweet  to  Him.  He  passes  on  through  the 
world,  hailed  by  the  acclamations  of  grateful  hearts, 
needing  no  bodyguard  but  those  that  love  Him ;  and 
they  need  to  bear  no  weapons  in  their  hands,  but  their 
mission  is  to  proclaim  with  glad  hearts  hosannas  to 
the  King  that '  cometh  in  the  name  of  the  Lord.' 

There  is  one  more  point  that  I  may  note.  Another 
of  the  Evangelists  tells  us  that  it  was  when  the  humble 
cortege  swept  round  the  shoulder  of  Olivet,  and  caught 
sight  of  the  city  gleaming  in  the  sunshine,  across  the 
Kedron  valley,  that  they  broke  into  the  most  rapturous 
of  their  hosannas,  as  if  they  would  call  to  the  city 
that  came  in  view  to  rejoice  and  welcome  its  King. 
And  what  was  the  King  doing  when  that  sight  burst 
upon  Him,  and  while  the  acclamations  eddied  round 
Him?    His  thoughts  were  far  away.     His  eyes  with 


V.  2]  A  ROYAL  PROGRESS  117 

divine  prescience  looked  on  to  the  impending  end,  and 
then  they  dimmed,  and  filled  with  tears  ;  and  He  wept 
over  the  city. 

That  is  our  King;  a  pauper  King,  a  meek  and  patient 
King,  a  King  that  delights  in  the  reverent  love  of 
hearts,  a  King  whose  armies  have  no  swords,  a  King 
whose  eyes  fill  with  tears  as  He  thinks  of  men's  woes 
and  cries.    Blessed  be  such  a  King ! 

III.  Lastly,  we  have  the  Royal  visitation  of  the 
Temple. 

Our  Evangelist  has  no  word  to  speak  about  the 
march  of  the  procession  down  into  the  valley,  and 
up  on  the  other  side,  and  through  the  gate,  and  into 
the  narrow  streets  of  the  city  that  was  '  moved '  as 
they  passed  through  it.  His  language  sounds  as  if  he 
considered  that  our  Lord's  object  in  entering  Jerusalem 
at  all  was  principally  to  enter  the  Temple.  He  *  looked 
round  on  all  things '  that  were  there.  Can  we  fancy  the 
keen  observance,  the  recognition  of  the  hidden  bad  and 
good,  the  blazing  indignation,  and  yet  dewy  pity,  in 
those  eyes?  His  visitation  of  the  Temple  was  its  in- 
spection by  its  Lord.  And  it  was  an  inspection  in 
order  to  cleanse.  To-day  He  looked ;  to-morrow  He 
wielded  the  whip  of  small  cords.  His  chastisement 
is  never  precipitate.  Perfect  knowledge  wields  His 
scourge,  and  pronounces  condemnation. 

Brethren,  Jesus  Christ  comes  to  us  as  a  congrega- 
tion, to  the  church  to  which  we  belong,  and  to  us  indi- 
vidually, with  the  same  inspection.  He  whose  eyes 
are  a  flame  of  fire,  says  to  His  churches  to-day,  *I 
know  thy  works.'  What  would  He  think  if  He  came 
to  us  and  tested  us  ? 

In  the  incident  of  my  text  He  was  fulfilling  another 
ancient  prophecy,  which  says,  •  The  Lord  shall  suddenly 


118  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xi. 

come  to  His  Temple,  and  ...  sit  as  a  refiner  of  silver 
.  .  .  like  a  refiner's  fire  and  as  fuller's  soap  .  .  .  and  He 
shall  purify  the  sons  of  Levi.  .  .  .  Then  shall  the  offer- 
ing of  Jerusalem  be  pleasant,  as  in  the  days  of  old.' 

We  need  nothing  more,  we  should  desire  nothing 
more  earnestly,  than  that  He  would  come  to  us:  'Search 
me,  O  Christ,  and  know  me.  And  see  if  there  be  any 
wicked  way  in  me,  and  lead  me  in  the  way  everlasting.' 
Jesus  Christ  is  the  King  of  England  as  truly  as  of 
Zion  ;  and  He  is  your  King  and  mine.  He  comes  to 
each  of  us,  patient,  meek,  loving;  ready  to  bless  and 
to  cleanse.  Dear  brother,  do  you  open  your  heart  to 
Him  ?  Do  you  acknowledge  Him  as  your  King  ?  Do 
you  count  it  your  highest  honour  if  He  will  use  you 
and  your  possessions,  and  condescend  to  say  that  He 
has  need  of  such  poor  creatures  as  we  are?  Do  you 
cast  your  garments  in  the  way,  and  say:  'Ride  on, 
great  Prince '  ?  Do  you  submit  yourself  to  His  inspec- 
tion, to  His  cleansing  ? 

Remember,  He  came  once  on  *  a  colt,  the  foal  of  an 
ass,  meek,  and  having  salvation.'  He  will  come  '  on 
the  white  horse,  in  righteousness  to  judge  and  to  make 
war,'  and  with  power  to  destroy. 

Oh!  I  beseech  you,  welcome  Him  as  He  comes  in 
gentle  love,  that  when  He  comes  in  judicial  majesty 
you  may  be  among  the  '  armies  of  heaven  that  follow 
after,'  and  from  immortal  tongues  utter  rapturous  and 
undying  hosannas. 


CHRIST'S  NEED  OF  US  AND  OURS 

*.  .  .  Say  ye  that  the  Lord  bath  need  of  him ;  and  straightway  he  will  send 
him  hither.'— Makk  xi,  3. 

Tou  will  remember  that  Jesus  Christ  sent  two  of  His 
disciples  into  the  village  that  looked  down  on  the  road 
from  Bethany  to  Jerusalem,  with  minute  instructions 
and  information  as  to  what  they  were  to  do  and  find 
there.  The  instructions  may  have  one  of  two  explana- 
tions— they  suggest  either  superhuman  knowledge  or 
a  previous  arrangement.  Perhaps,  although  it  is  less 
familiar  to  our  thoughts,  the  latter  is  the  explanation. 
There  is  a  remarkable  resemblance,  in  that  respect,  to 
another  incident  which  lies  close  beside  this  one  in  time, 
when  our  Lord  again  sent  two  disciples  to  make  pre- 
paration for  the  Passover,  and,  with  similar  minuteness, 
told  them  that  they  would  find,  at  a  certain  point,  a 
man  bearing  a  pitcher  of  water.  Him  they  were  to 
accost,  and  he  would  take  them  to  the  room  that  had 
been  prepared.  Now  the  old  explanation  of  both  these 
incidents  is  that  Jesus  Christ  knew  what  was  going 
to  happen.  Another  possible  explanation,  and  in  my 
view  more  probable  and  quite  as  instructive,  is,  that 
Jesus  Christ  had  settled  with  the  two  owners  what  was 
to  happen.  Clearly,  the  owner  of  the  colt  was  a  dis- 
ciple, because  at  once  he  gave  up  his  property  when 
the  message  was  repeated,  *  the  Lord  hath  need  of  him.' 
Probably  he  had  been  one  of  the  guests  at  the  modest 
festival  that  had  been  held  the  night  before,  in  the 
village  close  by,  in  Simon's  house,  and  had  seen  how 
Mary  had  expended  her  most  precious  possession  on  the 
Lord,  and,  under  the  influence  of  the  resurrection  of 
Lazarus,  he,  too,  perhaps,  was  touched,  and  was  glad  to 

U9 


120  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xi. 

arrange  with  Jesus  Christ  to  have  his  colt  waiting 
there  at  the  cross-road  for  his  Master's  convenience. 
But,  be  that  as  it  may,  it  seems  to  me  that  this  incident, 
and  especially  these  words  that  I  have  read  for  a  text, 
carry  very  striking  and  important  lessons  for  us, 
whether  we  look  at  them  in  connection  with  the 
incident  itself,  or  whether  we  venture  to  give  them  a 
somewhat  wider  application.  Let  me  take  these  two 
points  in  turn. 

I.  Now,  what  strikes  one  about  our  Lord's  requisi- 
tioning the  colt  is  this,  that  here  is  a  piece  of  conduct 
on  His  part  singularly  unlike  all  the  rest  of  His  life. 
All  through  it,  up  to  this  last  moment,  His  one  care 
was  to  damp  down  popular  enthusiasm,  to  put  on  the 
drag  whenever  there  came  to  be  the  least  symptom  of 
it,  to  discourage  any  reference  to  Him  as  the  Messiah- 
King  of  Israel,  to  shrink  back  from  the  coarse  adula- 
tion of  the  crowd,  and  to  glide  quietly  through  the 
world,  blessing  and  doing  good.  But  now,  at  the  end, 
He  flings  off  all  disguise.  He  deliberately  sets  Himself, 
at  a  time  when  popular  enthusiasm  ran  highest  and 
was  most  turbid  and  difficult  to  manage,  at  the  gather- 
ing of  the  nation  for  the  Passover  in  Jerusalem,  to  cast 
an  effervescing  element  into  the  caldron.  If  He  had 
planned  to  create  a  popular  rising,  He  could  not  have 
done  anything  more  certain  to  bring  it  about  than 
what  He  did  that  morning  when  He  made  arrange- 
ments for  a  triumphal  procession  into  the  city,  amidst 
the  excited  crowds  gathered  from  every  quarter  of  the 
land.  Why  did  He  do  that  ?  What  was  the  meaning 
of  it? 

Then  there  is  another  point  in  this  requisitioning 
of  the  colt.  He  not  only  deliberately  set  Himself  to 
stir  up  popular  excitement,   but  He  consciously   did 


V.  3]  CHRIST'S  NEED  OF  US  121 

what  would  be  an  outward  fulfilment  of  a  great  Mes- 
sianic prophecy.  I  hope  you  are  wiser  than  to  fancy 
that  Zechariah's  prophecy  of  the  peaceful  monarch 
who  was  to  come  to  Zion,  meek  and  victorious,  and 
riding  upon  a  '  colt  the  foal  of  an  ass,'  was  fulfilled 
by  the  outward  fact  of  Christ  being  mounted  on  this 
colt  •  whereon  never  man  sat.'  That  is  only  the  shell, 
and  if  there  had  been  no  such  triumphal  entry,  our 
Lord  would  as  completely  have  fulfilled  Zechariah's 
prophecy.  The  fulfilment  of  it  did  not  depend  on  the 
petty  detail  of  the  animal  upon  which  He  sat  when 
He  entered  the  city,  nor  even  on  that  entrance.  The 
meaning  of  the  prophecy  was  that  to  Zion,  wherever 
and  whatever  it  is,  there  should  come  that  Messianic 
King,  whose  reign  owed  nothing  to  chariots  and  horses 
and  weapcs  of  war  for  its  establishment,  but  who, 
meek  and  patient,  pacing  upon  the  humble  animal  used 
only  for  peaceful  services,  and  not  mounted  on  the 
prancing  steed  of  the  warrior,  should  inaugurate  the 
reign  of  majesty  and  of  meekness.  Our  Lord  uses  the 
external  fact  just  as  the  prophet  had  used  it,  as  of  no 
value  in  itself,  but  as  a  picturesque  emblem  of  the  very 
spirit  of  His  kingdom.  The  literal  fulfilment  was  a 
kind  of  finger-post  for  inattentive  onlookers,  which 
might  induce  them  to  look  more  closely,  and  so  see  that 
He  was  indeed  the  King  Messiah,  because  of  more 
important  correspondences  with  prophecy  than  His 
once  riding  on  an  ass.  Do  not  so  degrade  these  Old 
Testament  prophecies  as  to  fancy  that  their  literal 
fulfilment  is  of  chief  importance.  That  is  the  shell : 
the  kernel  is  the  all-important  thing,  and  Jesus  Christ 
would  have  fulfilled  the  rdle,  that  was  sketched  for 
Him  by  the  prophets  of  old,  just  as  completely  if 
there  never  had  been  this  entrance  into  Jerusalem. 


122  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xi. 

But,  further,  the  fact  that  He  had  to  borrow  the  colt 
was  as  significant  as  the  choice  of  it.  For  so  we  see 
blended  two  things,  the  blending  of  which  makes  the 
unique  peculiarity  and  sublimity  of  Christ's  life :  abso- 
lute authority,  and  meekness  of  poverty  and  lowliness. 
A  King,  and  yet  a  pauper-King !  A  King  claiming  His 
dominion,  and  yet  obliged  to  borrow  another  man's 
colt  in  order  that  He  might  do  it !  A  strange  kind  of 
monarch ! — and  yet  that  remarkable  combination  runs 
through  all  His  life.  He  had  to  be  obliged  to  a  couple 
of  fishermen  for  a  boat,  but  He  sat  in  it,  to  speak  words 
of  divine  wisdom.  He  had  to  be  obliged  to  a  lad  in  the 
crowd  for  barley  loaves  and  fishes,  but  when  He  took 
them  into  His  hands  they  were  multiplied.  He  had  to 
be  obliged  for  a  grave,  and  yet  He  rose  from  the  bor- 
rowed grave  the  Lord  of  life  and  death.  And  so  when 
He  would  pose  as  a  King,  He  has  to  borrow  the  regalia, 
and  to  be  obliged  to  this  anonymous  friend  for  the  colt 
which  made  the  emphasis  of  His  claim.  '  Who,  though 
He  was  rich,  yet  for  our  sakes  became  poor,  that  we 
through  His  poverty  might  be  rich.' 

II.  And  now  turn  for  a  moment  to  the  wider  applica- 
tion of  these  words. 

•The  Lord  hath  need  of  him.'  That  opens  the  door 
to  thoughts,  that  I  cannot  crowd  into  the  few  minutes 
that  I  have  at  my  disposal,  as  to  that  great  and  wonder- 
ful truth  that  Christ  cannot  assume  His  kingdom  in 
this  world  without  your  help,  and  that  of  the  other 
people  whose  hearts  are  touched  by  His  love.  'The 
Lord  hath  need'  of  them.  Though  upon  that  Cross  of 
Calvary  He  did  all  that  was  necessary  for  the  redemp- 
tion of  the  world  and  the  salvation  of  humanity  as  a 
whole,  yet  for  the  bearing  of  that  blessing  into  indi- 
vidual hearts,  and  for  the  application  of  the  full  powerg 


V.  3]  CHRIST'S  NEED  OF  US  123 

that  are  stored  in  the  Gospel  and  in  Jesus,  to  their  work 
in  the  world,  the  missing  link  is  man.  We  •  are  fellow- 
labourers  with  God.'  We  are  Christ's  tools.  The 
instruments  by  which  He  builds  His  kingdom  are  the 
souls  that  have  already  accepted  His  authority.  *  The 
Lord  hath  need  of  him,'  though,  as  the  psalmist  sings, 
'  If  I  were  hungry  I  would  not  tell  thee,  for  all  the 
beasts  of  the  forest  are  Mine.'  Yes,  and  when  the  Word 
was  made  flesh.  He  had  need  of  one  of  the  humblest 
of  the  beasts.  The  Christ  that  redeemed  the  world 
needs  us,  to  carry  out  and  to  bring  into  effect  His  re- 
demption. *  God  mend  all,'  said  one,  and  the  answer 
was,  '  We  must  help  Him  to  mend  it.' 

Notice  again  the  authoritative  demand,  which  does 
not  contemplate  the  possibility  of  reluctance  or  refusal. 
'  The  Lord  hath  need  of  him.'  That  is  all.  There  is  no 
explanation  or  motive  alleged  to  induce  surrender  to 
the  demand.  This  is  a  royal  style  of  speech.  It  is  the 
way  in  which,  in  despotic  countries,  kings  lay  their 
demands  upon  a  poor  man's  whole  plenishing  and 
possession,  and  sweep  away  all. 

Jesus  Christ  comes  to  us  in  like  fashion,  and  brushes 
aside  all  our  convenience  and  everything  else,  and  says, 
'  I  want  you,  and  that  is  enough.'  Is  it  not  enough  ? 
Should  it  not  be  enough?  If  He  demands,  He  has  the 
right  to  demand.  For  we  are  His,  *  bought  with  a  price.' 
All  the  slave's  possessions  are  his  owner's  property.  The 
slave  is  given  a  little  patch  of  garden  ground,  and  per- 
haps allowed  to  keep  a  fowl  or  two,  but  the  master  can 
come  and  say,  'Now  /  want  them,'  and  the  slave  has 
nothing  for  it  but  to  givo  them  up. 

•The  Lord  hath  need  of  him'  is  in  the  autocratic  tone 
of  One  who  has  absolute  power  over  us  and  ours.  And 
that  power,  where  does  it  come  from?    It  comes  from 


124  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [oh.  xi. 

His  absolute  surrender  of  Himself  to  us,  and  because 
He  has  wholly  given  Himself  for  us.  He  does  not 
expect  us  to  say  one  contrary  word  when  He  sends  and 
says, '  I  have  need  of  you,  or  of  yours.' 

Here,  again,  we  have  an  instance  of  glad  surrender. 
The  last  words  of  my  text  are  susceptible  of  a  double 
meaning.  'Straightway  he  will  send  him  hither' — 
who  is  '  he '  ?  It  is  usually  understood  to  be  the  owner 
of  the  colt,  and  the  clause  is  supposed  to  be  Christ's 
assurance  to  the  two  messengers  of  the  success  of  their 
errand.  So  understood,  the  words  suggest  the  great 
truth  that  Love  loosens  the  hand  that  grasps  posses- 
sions, and  unlocks  our  treasure-houses.  There  is  no- 
thing more  blessed  than  to  give  in  response  to  the 
requirement  of  love.  And  so,  to  Christ's  authoritative 
demand,  the  only  proper  answer  is  obedience  swift  and 
glad,  because  it  is  loving.  Many  possibilities  of  joy 
and  blessing  are  lost  by  us  through  not  yielding  on  the 
instant  to  Christ's  demands.  Hesitation  and  delay  are 
dangerous.  In  'straightway'  complying  are  security 
and  joy.  If  the  owner  had  begun  to  say  to  himself 
that  he  very  much  needed  the  colt,  or  that  he  saw 
no  reason  why  some  one  else's  beast  should  not  have 
been  taken,  or  that  he  would  send  the  animal  very 
soon,  but  must  have  the  use  of  him  for  an  hour  or 
two  first,  he  would  probably  never  have  sent  him  at 
all,  and  so  would  have  missed  the  greatest  honour 
of  his  life.  As  soon  as  I  know  what  Christ  wants 
from  me,  without  delay  let  me  do  it ;  for  if  I  begin 
with  delaying  I  shall  probably  end  with  declining. 
The  Psalmist  was  wise  when  he  laid  emphasis  on  the 
swiftness  of  his  obedience,  and  said,  *I  made  haste 
and  delayed  not,  but  made  haste  to  keep  Thy  com- 
mandments.' 


V.  3]  CHRIST  S  NEED  OF  US  125 

But  another  view  of  the  words  makes  them  part  of 
the  message  to  the  owner  of  the  colt,  and  not  of  the 
assurance  to  the  disciples.  '  Say  ye  that  the  Lord  hath 
need  of  him,  and  that  straightway  (when  He  has  done 
with  him)  He  will  send  him  back  again.'  That  is  a 
possible  rendering,  and  I  am  disposed  to  think  it  is  the 
proper  one.  By  it  the  owner  is  told  that  he  is  not 
parting  with  his  property  for  good  and  all,  that  Jesus 
only  wishes  to  borrow  the  animal  for  the  morning,  and 
that  it  will  be  returned  in  the  afternoon.  What  does 
that  view  of  the  words  suggest  to  us  ?  Do  you  not  think 
that  that  colt,  when  it  did  come  back — for  of  course  it 
came  back  some  time  or  other, — was  a  great  deal  more 
precious  to  its  owner  than  it  ever  had  been  before,  or 
ever  could  have  been  if  it  had  not  been  lent  to  Christ, 
and  Christ  had  not  made  His  royal  entry  upon  it  ?  Can 
you  not  fancy  that  the  man,  if  he  was,  as  he  evidently 
was,  a  disciple  and  lover  of  the  Lord,  would  look  at  it, 
especially  after  the  Crucifixion  and  the  Ascension,  and 
think,  '  What  an  honour  to  me,  that  I  provided  the 
mount  for  that  triumphal  entry !' ?  It  is  always  so.  If 
you  wish  anything  to  become  precious,  lend  it  to  Jesus 
Christ,  and  when  it  comes  back  again,  as  it  will  come 
back,  there  will  be  a  fragrance  about  it,  a  touch  of  His 
fingers  will  be  left  upon  it,  a  memory  that  He  has  used 
it.  If  you  desire  to  own  yourselves,  and  to  make  your- 
selves worth  owning,  give  yourselves  to  Christ.  If  you 
wish  to  get  the  greatest  possible  blessing  and  good  out 
of  possessions,  lay  them  at  His  feet.  If  you  wish  love 
to  be  hallowed,  joy  to  be  calmed,  perpetuated,  and 
deepened,  carry  it  to  Him.  'If  the  house  be  worthy, 
your  peace  shall  rest  upon  it ;  if  not,'  like  the  dove  to 
the  ark  when  it  could  find  no  footing  in  the  turbid  and 
drowned   world,    '  it  shall   come  back  to  you  again.' 


126  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xi. 

Straightway  He  will  'send  him  back  again/ and  that 
which  I  give  to  Jesus  He  will  return  enhanced,  and  it 
will  be  more  truly  and  more  blessedly  mine,  because  I 
have  laid  it  in  His  hands.  This  'altar'  sanctifies  the 
giver  and  the  gift. 


NOTHING  BUT  LEAVES 

•  And  seeing  a  fig  tree  afar  off  having  leaves,  He  came,  if  haply  He  might  find 
any  thing  thereon :  and  when  He  came  to  it,  He  found  nothing  but  leaves ;  .  .  . 
14.  And  Jesus  .  .  .  said  unto  ifc,  No  man  eat  fruit  of  thee  hereafter  for  ever.'— 
Mark  xi.  13, 14. 

The  date  of  this  miracle  has  an  important  bearing  on 
its  meaning  and  purpose.  It  occurred  on  the  Monday 
morning  of  the  last  week  of  Christ's  ministry.  That 
week  saw  His  last  coming  to  Israel,  'if  haply  He 
might  find  any  thing  thereon.'  And  if  you  remember 
the  foot-to-foot  duel  with  the  rulers  and  representa- 
tives of  the  nation,  and  the  words,  weighty  with 
coming  doom,  which  He  spoke  in  the  Temple  on  the  sub- 
sequent days,  you  will  not  doubt  that  the  explanation 
of  this  strange  and  anomalous  miracle  is  that  it  is 
an  acted  parable,  a  symbol  of  Israel  in  its  fruitless- 
ness  and  in  its  consequent  barrenness  to  all  coming 
time. 

This  is  the  only  point  of  view,  as  it  seems  to  me, 
from  which  the  peculiarities  of  the  miracle  can  either 
be  warranted  or  explained.  It  is  our  Lord's  only 
destructive  act.  The  fig-tree  grew  by  the  wayside ; 
probably,  therefore,  it  belonged  to  nobody,  and  there 
was  no  right  of  property  affected  by  its  loss.  He  saw 
it  from  afar,  *  having  leaves,'  and  that  was  why,  three 
months  before  the  time,  He  went  to  look  if  there  were 
figs  on  it.  For  experts  tell  us  that  in  the  fig-tree  the 
leaves  accompany,  and  do  not  precede,  the  fruit.  And 
so  this  one  tree,  brave  in  its  show  of  foliage  amidst 
leafless  companions,  was    a    hypocrite    unless    there 


128  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.  xi. 

were  figs  below  the  leaves.  Therefore  Jesus  came,  if 
haply  He  might  find  anything  thereon,  and  finding 
nothing,  perpetuated  the  condition  which  He  found, 
and  made  the  sin  its  own  punishment. 

Now  all  that  is  plain  symbol,  and  so  I  ask  you  to 
look  with  me,  for  a  few  moments,  at  these  three  things 
— (1)  What  Christ  sought  and  seeks;  (2)  What  He 
found  and  often  finds ;  (3)  What  He  did  when  He 
found  it. 

I.  What  Christ  sought  and  seeks. 

He  came  '  seeking  fruit.'  Now  I  may  just  notice,  in 
passing,  how  pathetically  and  beautifully  this  incident 
suggests  to  us  the  true,  dependent,  weak  manhood  of 
that  great  Lord.  In  all  probability  He  had  just  come 
from  the  home  of  Mary  and  Martha,  and  it  is  strange 
that  having  left  their  hospitable  abode  He  should  be 
'  an  hungered.'  But  so  it  was.  And  even  with  all  the 
weight  of  the  coming  crisis  pressing  upon  His  soul, 
He  was  conscious  of  physical  necessities,  as  one  of  us 
might  have  been,  and  perhaps  felt  the  more  need  for 
sustenance  because  so  terrible  a  conflict  was  waiting 
Him.  Nor,  I  think,  need  we  shrink  from  recognising 
another  of  the  characteristics  of  humanity  here,  in  the 
limitations  of  His  knowledge  and  in  the  real  expecta- 
tion, which  was  disappointed,  that  He  might  find  fruit 
where  there  were  leaves.  I  do  not  want  to  plunge 
into  depths  far  too  deep  for  any  man  to  find  sure  foot- 
ing in,  nor  seek  to  define  the  undefinable,  nor  to 
explain  how  the  divine  inosculates  with  the  human, 
but  sure  I  am  that  Jesus  Christ  was  not  getting  up  a 
scene  in  order  to  make  a  parable  out  of  His  miracle ; 
and  that  the  hunger  and  the  expectancy  and  the 
disappointment  were  all  real,  however  they  after- 
wards may  haye  been  turned  by  Him  to  a  symbolical 


vs.  13,14]     NOTHING  BUT  LEAVES  129 

purpose.  And  so  here  we  may  see  the  weak  Christ, 
the  limited  Christ,  the  true  human  Christ.  But  side 
by  side,  as  is  ever  the  case,  with  this  manifestation  of 
weakness,  there  comes  an  apocalypse  of  power.  Wher- 
ever you  have,  in  the  history  of  our  Lord,  some  signal 
exemplification  of  human  infirmity,  you  have  flashed 
out  through  '  the  veil,  that  is,  His  flesh,'  some  beam  of 
His  glory.  Thus  this  hungry  Man  could  say,  '  No  fruit 
grow  on  thee  henceforward  for  ever';  and  His  bare 
word,  the  mere  forth-putting  and  manifestation  of  His 
will,  had  power  on  material  things.  That  is  the  sign 
and  impress  of  divinity. 

But  I  pass  from  that,  which  is  not  my  special  point 
now.  What  did  Christ  seek?  'Fruit.'  And  what  is 
fruit  in  contradistinction  to  leaves  ?  Character  and 
conduct  like  His.  That  is  our  fruit.  All  else  is  leafage. 
As  the  Apostle  says,  'Love,  joy,  hope, peace,  righteous- 
ness in  the  Holy  Ghost';  or,  to  put  it  into  one  word, 
Christ-likeness  in  our  inmost  heart  and  nature,  and 
Christ-likeness,  so  far  as  it  may  be  possible  for  us, 
in  our  daily  life,  that  is  the  one  thing  that  our  Lord 
seeks  from  us. 

O  brethren  !  we  do  not  realise  enough  for  ourselves, 
day  by  day,  that  it  was  for  this  end  that  Jesus  Christ 
came.  The  cradle  in  Bethlehem,  the  weary  life, 
the  gracious  words,  the  mighty  deeds,  the  Cross  on 
Calvary,  the  open  grave.  Olivet  with  His  last  foot- 
prints ;  His  place  on  the  throne,  Pentecost,  they  were 
all  meant  for  this,  to  make  you  and  me  good  men, 
righteous  people,  bearing  the  fruits  of  holy  living  and 
conduct  corresponding  to  His  own  pattern.  Emotions 
of  the  selectest  kind,  religious  experience  of  the  pro- 
foundest  and  truest  nature,  these  are  blessed  and  good. 
They  are  the  blossom  which  sets  into  fruit.  And  they 
VOL.  II.  X 


130  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xi. 

come  for  this  end,  that  by  the  help  of  them  we  may  be 
made  like  Jesus  Christ.  He  has  yet  to  learn  what  is 
the  purpose  and  the  meaning  of  the  Grospel  who  fixes 
upon  anything  else  as  its  ultimate  design  than  the 
production  in  us,  as  the  results  of  the  life  of  Christ 
dwelling  in  our  hearts,  of  character  and  conduct  like 
to  His. 

I  suppose  I  ought  to  apologise  for  talking  such 
commonplace  platitudes  as  these,  but,  brethren,  the 
most  commonplace  truths  are  usually  the  most  im- 
portant and  the  most  impotent.  And  no  '  platitude '  is 
a  platitude  until  you  have  brought  it  so  completely 
into  your  lives  that  there  is  no  room  for  a  fuller 
working  of  it  out.  So  I  come  to  you,  Christian  men 
and  women,  real  and  nominal,  now  with  this  for  my 
message,  that  Jesus  Christ  seeks  from  you  this  first 
and  foremost,  that  you  shall  be  good  men  and  women 
'according  to  the  pattern  that  has  been  showed  us 
in  the  Mount,'  according  to  the  likeness  of  His  own 
stainless  perfection. 

^  And  do  not  forget  that  Jesus  Christ  hungers  for  that 
goodness.  That  is  a  strange,  and  infinitely  touching, 
and  absolutely  true  thing.  He  is  only  '  satisfied,'  and 
the  hunger  of  His  heart  appeased,  when  'He  sees  of 
the  travail  of  His  soul'  in  the  righteousness  of  His 
servants.  I  passed  a  day  or  two  ago,  in  a  country 
place,  a  great  field  on  which  there  was  stuck   up  a 

board  that  said,  ' 's  trial  ground  for  seeds.'    This 

world  is  Christ's  trial  ground  for  seeds,  where  He  is 
testing  you  and  me  to  see  whether  it  is  worth  while 
cultivating  us  any  more,  and  whether  we  can  bring 
forth  any  '  fruit  to  perfection '  fit  for  the  lips  and  the 
refreshment  of  the  Owner  and  Lord  of  the  vineyard. 
Christ   longs  for  fruit  from   us.      And — strange   and 


vs.l3,U]    NOTHING  BUT  LEAVES  131 

wonderful,  and  yet  true — the  'bread'  that  He  eats  is 
the  service  of  His  servants.  That,  amongst  other 
things,  is  what  is  meant  by  the  ancient  institution  of 
sacrifice,  *  the  food  of  the  gods.'  Christ's  food  is  the 
holiness  and  obedience  of  His  children.  He  comes  to  us, 
as  He  came  to  that  fig-tree,  seeking  from  us  this  fruit 
which  He  delights  in  receiving.  Brethren,  we  cannot 
think  too  much  of  Christ's  unspeakable  gift  in  itself 
and  in  its  consequences ;  but  we  may  easily  think 
too  little,  and  I  am  sure  that  a  great  many  of  us  do 
think  too  little,  of  Christ's  demands.  He  is  not  an 
austere  man,  'reaping  where  He  did  not  sow';  but 
having  sowed  so  much.  He  does  look  for  the  harvest. 
He  comes  to  us  with  the  heart-moving  appeal,  '  I 
have  given  all  to  thee;  what  givest  thou  to  Me?' 
'My  well-beloved  hath  a  vineyard  in  a  very  fruitful 
hill ;  and  he  fenced  it  and  planted  it,  and  built  a  tower 
and  a  wine-press  in  it ' — and  what  then  ? — '  and  he 
looked  that  it  should  bring  forth  grapes.'  Christ 
comes  to  each  of  you  professing  Christians,  and  asks, 
'What  fruit  hast  thou  borne  after  all  My  sedulous 
husbandry  ? ' 

II.  Now  note,  in  the  next  place,  what  Christ 
found. 

'Nothing  but  leaves.'  I  have  already  said  that  we 
are  told  that  the  habit  of  growth  of  these  trees  is  that 
the  fruit  accompanies,  and  sometimes  precedes,  the 
leaves.  Whether  it  is  so  or  no,  let  me  remind  you 
that  leaves  are  an  outcome  of  the  life  as  well  as 
fruit,  and  that  they  benefit  the  tree,  and  assist  in 
the  production  of  the  fruit  which  it  ought  to  bear. 
And  so  the  symbol  suggests  things  that  are  good  in 
themselves,  ancillary  and  subsidiary  to  the  production 
of  fruit,  but  which  sometimes  tend  to  such  dispro- 


132  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xi. 

portionate  exuberance  of  growth  as  that  all  the  life 
of  the  tree  runs  to  leaf,  and  there  is  not  a  berry  to  be 
found  on  it. 

And  if  you  want  to  know  what  such  things  are,  re- 
member the  condition  of  the  rulers  of  Israel  at  that 
time.  They  prided  themselves  upon  their  nominal, 
external,  hereditary  connection  with  a  system  of 
revelation,  they  trusted  in  mere  ritualisms,  they  had 
ossified  religion  into  theology,  and  degraded  morality 
into  casuistry.  They  thought  that  because  they  had 
been  born  Jews,  and  circumcised,  and  because  there 
was  a  daily  sacrifice  going  on  in  the  Temple,  and 
because  they  had  Rabbis  who  could  split  hairs  ad 
infinitum^  therefore  they  were  the  '  temple  of  the  Lord,' 
and  God's  chosen. 

And  that  is  exactly  what  hosts  of  pagans,  masquerad- 
ing as  Christians,  are  doing  in  all  our  so-called  Christian 
lands,  and  in  all  our  so-called  Christian  congregations. 
In  any  community  of  so-called  Christian  people  there 
is  a  little  nucleus  of  real,  earnest,  God-fearing  folk, 
and  a  great  fringe  of  people  whose  Christianity  is 
mostly  from  the  teeth  outward,  who  have  a  nominal 
and  external  connection  with  religion,  who  have  been 
*  baptized '  and  are  '  communicants,'  who  think  that 
religion  lies  mainly  in  coming  on  a  Sunday,  and  with 
more  or  less  toleration  and  interest  listening  to  a 
preacher's  words  and  joining  in  external  worship,  and 
all  the  while  the  '  weightier  matters  of  the  law ' 
— righteousness,  justice,  and  the  love  of  God — they 
leave  untouched.  What  describes  such  a  type  of 
religion  with  more  piercing  accuracy  than  *  nothing 
but  leaves'? 

External  connection  with  God's  Church  is  a  good 
thing.    It  is  meant  to  make  us  better  men  and  women. 


vs.l3,U]    NOTHING  BUT  LEAVES  133 

If  it  does  not,  it  is  a  bad  thing.  Acts  of  worship,  more 
or  less  elaborate — for  it  is  not  the  elaboration  of  cere- 
monial, but  the  mistaken  view  of  it,  that  does  the 
harm — acts  of  worship  may  be  helpful,  or  may  be 
absolute  barriers  to  real  religious  life.  They  are  be- 
coming so  largely  to-day.  The  drift  and  trend  of 
opinion  in  some  parts  of  so-called  Christendom  is  in 
the  direction  of  outward  ceremonial.  And  I,  for  one, 
believe  that  there  are  few  things  doing  more  harm 
to  the  Christian  character  of  England  to-day  than 
the  preposterous  recurrence  to  a  reliance  on  the  mere 
externals  of  worship.  Of  course  we  Dissenters  pride 
ourselves  on  having  no  complicity  with  the  sacra- 
mentarian  errors  which  underlie  these.  But  there  may 
be  quite  as  much  of  a  barrier  between  the  soul  and 
Christ,  reared  by  the  bare  worship  of  Nonconformists, 
or  by  the  no-worship  of  the  Society  of  Friends.  If  the 
absence  of  form  be  converted  into  a  form,  as  it  often 
is,  there  may  be  as  lofty  and  wide  a  barrier  raised  by 
these  as  by  the  most  elaborate  ritual  of  the  highest 
ceremonial  that  exists  in  Christendom.  And  so  I  say 
to  you,  dear  brethren,  seeing  that  we  are  all  in  danger 
of  cleaving  to  externals  and  substituting  these  which 
are  intended  to  be  helps  to  the  production  of  godly 
life  and  character,  it  becomes  us  all  to  listen  to  the 
solemn  word  of  exhortation  that  comes  out  of  my 
text,  and  to  beware  lest  our  religion  runs  to  leaf 
instead  of  setting  into  fruit. 

It  does  so  with  many  of  us ;  that  is  a  certainty. 
I  am  thinking  about  no  individual,  about  no  indivi- 
duals, but  I  am  only  speaking  common  sense  when 
I  say  that  amongst  as  many  people  as  I  am  now 
addressing  there  will  be  an  appreciable  proportion 
who  have  no  notion  of  religion  as  anything  beyond 


134  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.  xi. 

a  more  or  less  imperative  and  more  or  less  unwelcome 
set  of  external  observances. 

III.  And  so,  lastly,  let  me  ask  you  to  notice  what 
Christ  did. 

I  do  not  need  to  trouble  myself  nor  you  with  vin- 
dicating the  morality  of  this  miracle  against  the 
fantastic  objections  that  often  have  been  made  against 
it;  nor  need  I  say  a  word  more  than  I  have  already 
said  about  its  symbolical  meaning.  Israel  was  in  that 
week  being  asked  for  the  last  time  to  'bring  forth 
fruit '  to  the  Lord  of  the  vineyard.  The  refusal  bound 
barrenness  on  the  synagogue  and  on  the  nation,  if  not 
absolutely  for  ever,  at  all  events  until '  it  shall  turn  to 
the  Lord,*  and  partake  again  of  '  the  root  and  fatness ' 
from  which  it  has  been  broken  off.  What  thirsty 
lips  since  that  week  have  ever  got  any  good  out  of 
Rabbinism  and  Judaism  ?  No  '  figs '  have  grown  on 
that  '  thistle.'  The  world  has  passed  it  by,  and  left  all 
its  subtle  casuistries  and  painfully  microscopic  studies 
of  the  letter  of  Scripture — with  utter  oblivion  of  its 
spirit — left  them  all  severely  and  wisely  alone.  Judaism 
is  a  dead  tree. 

And  is  there  nothing  else  in  this  incident  ?  *  No  man 
eat  fruit  of  thee  hereafter  for  ever ' ;  the  punishment 
of  that  f  ruitlessness  was  confirmed  and  eternal  barren- 
ness. There  is  the  lesson  that  the  punishment  of  any 
sin  is  to  bind  the  sin  upon  the  doer  of  it. 

But,  further,  the  church  or  the  individual  whose 
religion  runs  to  leaf  is  useless  to  the  world.  What 
does  the  world  care  about  the  ceremonials  and  the 
externals  of  worship,  and  a  painful  orthodoxy,  and  the 
study  of  the  letter  of  Scripture  ?  Nothing.  A  useless 
church  or  a  Christian,  from  whom  no  man  gets  any 
fruit  to  cool  a  thirsty,  parched  lip,  is  only  fit  for  what 


vs.i3,U]    NOTHING  BUT  LEAVES  185 

comes  after  the  barrenness,  and  that  is,  that  every  tree 
that  bringeth  '  not  forth  good  fruit  is  hewn  down 
and  cast  into  the  fire.'  The  churches  of  England,  and 
we,  as  integral  parts  of  these,  have  solemn  duties 
lying  upon  us  to-day;  and  if  we  cannot  help  our 
brethren,  and  feed  and  nourish  the  hungry  and  thirsty 
hearts  and  souls  of  mankind,  then — then!  the  sooner 
we  are  plucked  up  and  pitched  over  the  vineyard  wall, 
which  is  the  fate  of  the  barren  vine,  the  better  for 
the  world  and  the  better  for  the  vineyard. 

The  fate  of  Judaism  teaches,  to  all  of  us  professing 
Christians,  very  solemn  lessons.  *If  God  spared  not 
the  natural  branches,  take  heed  lest  He  also  spare  not 
thee.'  What  has  become  of  the  seven  churches  of  Asia 
Minor?  They  hardened  into  chattering  theological 
*  orthodoxy,'  and  all  the  blood  of  them  went  to  the 
surface,  so  to  speak.  And  so  down  came  the  Moham- 
medan power — which  was  strong  then  because  it  did 
believe  in  a  God,  and  not  in  its  own  belief  about  a  God 
— and  wiped  them  off  the  face  of  the  earth.  And  so, 
brethren,  we  have,  in  this  miracle,  a  warning  and  a 
prophecy  which  it  becomes  all  the  Christian  com- 
munities of  this  day,  and  the  individual  members  of 
such,  to  lay  very  earnestly  to  heart. 

But  do  not  let  us  forget  that  the  Evangelist  who 
does  not  tell  us  the  story  of  the  blasted  fig-tree  does 
tell  us  its  analogue,  the  parable  of  the  barren  fig-tree, 
and  that  in  it  we  read  that  when  the  fiat  of  destruction 
had  gone  forth,  there  was  one  who  said,  '  Let  it  alone 
this  year  also  that  I  may  dig  about  it,  .  .  .  and  if  it  bear 
fruit,  well !  If  not,  after  that  thou  shalt  cut  it  down.' 
So  the  barren  tree  may  become  a  fruitful  tree,  though 
it  has  hitherto  borne  nothing  but  leaves.  Your  religion 
may  have  been  all  on  the  surface  and  in  form,  but  you 


136  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK         [ch.xi. 

can  come  into  touch  with  Him  in  whom  is  our  life  and 
from  whom  comes  our  fruitfulness.  He  has  said  to 
each  of  us,  '  As  the  branch  cannot  bear  fruit  of  itself, 
except  it  abide  in  the  vine,  no  more  can  ye,  except  ye 
abide  in  Me.' 


DISHONEST  TENANTS 

'And  He  began  to  speak  unto  them  by  parables.  A  certain  man  planted  a 
vineyard,  and  set  an  hedge  about  it,  and  digged  a  place  for  the  winefat,  and  buUt 
a  tower,  and  let  it  out  to  husbandmen,  and  went  into  a  far  country.  2.  And  at  the 
season  he  sent  to  the  husbandmen  a  servant,  that  he  might  receive  from  the 
husbandmen  of  the  fruit  of  the  vineyard.  3.  And  they  caught  him,  and  beat  him, 
and  sent  him  away  empty.  4.  And  again  he  sent  unto  them  another  servant ;  and 
at  him  they  cast  stones,  and  wounded  him  in  the  head,  and  sent  him  away  shame- 
fully handled.  5.  And  again  ho  sent  another;  and  him  they  killed,  and  many 
others ;  beating  some,  and  killing  some.  6.  Having  yet  therefore  one  son,  his  well 
beloved,  he  sent  him  also  last  unto  them,  saying.  They  will  reverence  my  son. 
7.  But  those  husbandmen  said  among  themselves.  This  is  the  heir ;  come,  let  us  kill 
him,  and  the  inheritance  shall  be  oiirs.  8.  And  they  took  him,  and  killed  him,  and 
cast  him  out  of  the  vineyard.  9.  What  shall  therefore  the  lord  of  the  vineyard  do? 
He  will  come  and  destroy  the  husbandmen,  and  will  give  the  vineyard  unto 
others.  10.  And  have  ye  not  read  this  scripture ;  The  stone  which  the  builders 
rejected  is  become  the  head  of  the  corner  :  11.  This  was  the  Lord's  doing,  and  it  is 
marvellous  in  our  eyes  ?  12.  And  they  sought  to  lay  hold  on  Him,  but  feared  the 
people :  for  they  knew  that  He  had  spoken  the  parable  against  them :  and  they 
left  Him,  and  went  their  way.' — Mare  xii.  1-12. 

The  ecclesiastical  rulers  had  just  been  questioning 
Jesus  as  to  the  authority  by  which  He  acted.  His 
answer,  a  counter-question  as  to  John's  authority,  was 
not  an  evasion.  If  they  decided  whence  John  came, 
they  would  not  be  at  any  loss  as  to  whence  Jesus  came. 
If  they  steeled  themselves  against  acknowledging  the 
Forerunner,  they  would  not  be  receptive  of  Christ's 
message.  That  keen-edged  retort  plainly  indicates 
Christ's  conviction  of  the  rulers'  insincerity,  and  in  this 
parable  He  charges  home  on  these  solemn  hypocrites 
their  share  in  the  hereditary  rejection  of  messengers 
whose  authority  was  unquestionable.  Much  they  cared 
for  even  divine  authority,  as  they  and  their  predecessors 
had  shown  through  centuries !  The  veil  of  parable  is 
transparent  here.  Jesus  increased  in  severity  and  bold 
attack  as  the  end  drew  near. 

I.  The  parable  begins  with  a  tender  description  of 
the  preparation  and  allotment  of  the  vineyard.     The 

w 


138  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xn. 

picture  is  based  upon  Isaiah's  lovely  apologue  (Isaiah  v. 
1),  which  was,  no  doubt,  familiar  to  the  learned  officials. 
But  there  is  a  slight  difference  in  the  application  of  the 
metaphor  which  in  Isaiah  means  the  nation,  and  in  the 
parable  is  rather  the  theocracy  as  an  institution,  or,  as 
we  may  put  it  roughly,  the  aggregate  of  divine  revela- 
tions and  appointments  which  constituted  the  religious 
prerogatives  of  Israel. 

Our  Lord  follows  the  original  passage  in  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  preparation  of  the  vineyard,  but  it  would 
probably  be  going  too  far  to  press  special  meanings  on 
the  wall,  the  wine-press,  and  the  watchman's  tower. 
The  fence  was  to  keep  off  marauders,  whether  passers- 
by  or  •  the  boar  out  of  the  wood '  (Psalm  Ixxx.  12,  13) ; 
the  wine-press,  for  which  Mark  uses  the  word  which 
means  rather  the  vat  into  which  the  juice  from  the 
press  proper  flowed,  was  to  extract  and  collect  the 
precious  liquid ;  the  tower  was  for  the  watchman. 

A  vineyard  with  all  these  fittings  was  ready  for  pro- 
fitable occupation.  Thus  abundantly  had  God  furnished 
Israel  with  all  that  was  needed  for  fruitful,  happy 
service.  What  was  true  of  the  ancient  Church  is  still 
more  true  of  us  who  have  received  every  requisite  for 
holy  living.  Isaiah's  solemn  appeal  has  a  still  sharper 
edge  for  Christians :  '  Judge,  I  pray  you,  betwixt  me 
and  my  vineyard.  What  could  have  been  done  more 
to  my  vineyard  that  I  have  not  done  in  it  ? ' 

The  '  letting  of  the  vineyard  to  husbandmen '  means 
the  committal  to  Israel  and  its  rulers  of  these  divine 
institutions,  and  the  holding  them  responsible  for  their 
f  ruitf  ulness.  It  may  be  a  question  whether  the  tenants 
are  to  be  understood  as  only  the  official  persons,  or 
whether,  while  these  are  primarily  addressed,  they 
represent  the  whole  people.    The  usual  interpretation 


vs.  1-12]         DISHONEST  TENANTS  139 

limits  the  meaning  to  the  rulers,  but,  if  so,  it  is  difficult 
to  carry  out  the  application,  as  the  vineyard  would 
then  have  to  be  regarded  as  being  the  nation,  which 
confuses  all.  The  language  of  Matthew  (which  threatens 
the  taking  of  the  vineyard  and  giving  it  to  another 
nation)  obliges  us  to  regard  the  nation  as  included  in 
the  husbandmen,  though  primarily  the  expression  is 
addressed  to  the  rulers. 

But  more  important  is  it  to  note  the  strong  expres- 
sions for  man's  quasi-independence  and  responsibility. 
The  Jew  was  invested  with  full  possession  of  the  vine- 
yard. We  all,  in  like  manner,  have  intrusted  to  us,  to 
do  as  we  will  with,  the  various  gifts  and  powers  of 
Christ's  gospel.  God,  as  it  were,  draws  somewhat  apart 
from  man,  that  he  may  have  free  play  for  his  choice, 
and  bear  the  burden  of  responsibility.  The  divine  action 
was  conspicuous  at  the  time  of  founding  the  polity  of 
Judaism,  and  then  came  long  years  in  which  there  were 
no  miracles,  but  all  things  continued  as  they  were.  God 
was  as  near  as  before,  but  He  seemed  far  off.  Thus 
Jesus  has,  in  like  manner,  gone  '  into  a  far  country  to 
receive  a  kingdom  and  to  return ' ;  and  we,  the  tenants 
of  a  richer  vineyard  than  Israel's,  have  to  administer 
what  He  has  intrusted  to  us,  and  to  bring  near  by 
faith  Him  who  is  to  sense  far  off. 

II.  The  next  scenes  paint  the  conduct  of  the  dishonest 
vine-dressers.  We  mark  the  stern,  dark  picture  drawn 
of  the  continued  and  brutal  violence,  as  well  as  the 
flagrant  unfaithfulness,  of  the  tenants.  Matthew's 
version  gives  emphasis  to  the  increasing  harshness  of 
treatment  of  the  owner's  messengers,  as  does  Mark's. 
First  comes  beating,  then  wounding,  then  murder.  The 
interpretation  is  self-evident.  The  •  servants '  are  the 
prophets,  mostly  men  inferior  in  rank  to  the  hierarchy, 


140  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xii. 

shepherds,  fig-gatherers,  and  the  like.  They  came  to 
rouse  Israel  to  a  sense  of  the  purpose  for  which  they 
had  received  their  distinguishing  prerogatives,  and 
their  reward  had  been  contempt  and  maltreatment. 
They  '  had  trial  of  mockings  and  scourgings,  of  bonds 
and  imprisonment :  they  were  stoned,  they  were  sawn 
asunder,  they  were  slain  with  the  sword.' 

The  indictment  is  the  same  as  that  by  which  Stephen 
wrought  the  Sanhedrim  into  a  paroxysm  of  fury.  To 
make  such  a  charge  as  Jesus  did,  in  the  very  Temple 
courts,  and  with  the  already  hostile  priests  glaring  at 
Him  while  He  spoke,  was  a  deliberate  assault  on  them 
and  their  predecessors,  whose  true  successors  they 
showed  themselves  to  be.  They  had  just  been  solemnly 
questioning  Him  as  to  His  authority.  He  answers  by 
thus  passing  in  review  the  uniform  treatment  meted 
by  them  and  their  like  to  those  who  came  with  God's 
manifest  authority. 

If  a  mere  man  had  spoken  this  parable,  we  might 
admire  the  magnificent  audacity  of  such  an  accusation. 
But  the  Speaker  is  more  than  man,  and  we  have  to 
recognise  the  judicial  calmness  and  severity  of  His  tone. 
Israel's  history,  as  it  shaped  itself  before  His  'pure  eyes 
and  perfect  judgment,'  was  one  long  series  of  divine 
favours  and  of  human  ingratitude,  of  ample  prepara- 
tions for  righteous  living  and  of  no  result,  of  messengers 
sent  and  their  contumelious  rejection.  We  wonder 
at  the  sad  monotony  of  such  requital.  Are  we  doing 
otherwise  ? 

III.  Then  comes  the  last  efltort  of  the  Owner,  the  last 
arrow  in  the  quiver  of  Almighty  Love.  Two  things  are 
to  be  pondered  in  this  part  of  the  parable.  First,  that 
wonderful  glimpse  into  the  depths  of  God's  heart,  in 
the  hope  expressed  by  the  Owner  of  the  vineyard, 


vs.  1-12]        DISHONEST  TENANTS  141 

brings  out  very  clearly  Christ's  claim,  made  there 
before  all  these  hostile,  keen  critics,  to  stand  in  an 
altogether  singular  relation  to  God.  He  asserts  His 
Sonship  as  separating  Him  from  the  class  of  prophets 
who  are  servants  only,  and  as  constituting  a  relation- 
ship with  the  Father  prior  to  His  coming  to  earth. 
His  Sonship  is  no  mere  synonym  for  His  Messiahship, 
but  was  a  fact  long  before  Bethlehem ;  and  its  assertion 
lifts  for  us  a  corner  of  the  veil  of  cloud  and  darkness 
round  the  throne  of  God.  Not  less  striking  is  the 
expression  of  a  frustrated  hope  in  '  they  will  reverence 
My  Son.'  Men  can  thwart  God's  purpose.  His  divine 
charity  '  hopeth  all  things.'  The  mystery  thus  sharply 
put  here  is  but  that  which  is  presented  everywhere  in 
the  co-existence  of  God's  purposes  and  man's  freedom. 

The  other  noteworthy  point  is  the  corresponding 
casting  of  the  vine-dressers'  thoughts  into  words.  Both 
representations  are  due  to  the  graphic  character  of 
parable ;  both  crystallise  into  speech  motives  which 
were  not  actually  spoken.  It  is  unnecessary  to  suppose 
that  even  the  rulers  of  Israel  had  gone  the  awful 
length  of  clear  recognition  of  Christ's  Messiahship,  and 
of  looking  each  other  in  the  face  and  whispering  such 
a  fiendish  resolve.  Jesus  is  here  dragging  to  light 
unconscious  motives.  The  masses  did  wish  to  have 
their  national  privileges  and  to  avoid  their  national 
duties.  The  rulers  did  wish  to  have  their  sway 
over  minds  and  consciences  undisturbed.  They  did 
resent  Jesus'  interference,  chiefly  because  they  instinc- 
tively felt  that  it  threatened  their  position.  They 
wanted  to  get  Him  out  of  the  way,  that  they  might 
lord  it  at  will.  They  could  have  known  that  He  was 
the  Son,  and  they  suppressed  dawning  suspicions  that 
He  was.    Alas !  they  have  descendants  still  in  many  of 


142  GOSPEL  OP  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xn. 

us  who  put  away  His  claims,  even  while  we  secretly 
recognise  them,  in  order  that  we  may  do  as  we  like 
without  His  meddling  with  us ! 

The  rulers'  calculation  was  a  blunder.  As  Augustine 
says,  *  They  slew  Him  that  they  might  possess,  and, 
because  they  slew,  they  lost.'  So  is  it  always.  Who- 
ever tries  to  secure  any  desired  end  by  putting  away 
his  responsibility  to  render  to  God  the  fruit  of  his 
thankful  service,  loses  the  good  which  he  would  fain 
clutch  at  for  his  own.    All  sin  is  a  mistake. 

The  parable  passes  from  thinly  veiled  history  to 
equally  transparent  prediction.  How  sadly  and  how 
unshrinkingly  does  the  meek  yet  mighty  Victim  disclose 
to  the  conspirators  His  perfect  knowledge  of  the  murder 
which  they  were  even  now  hatching  in  their  minds! 
He  foresees  all,  and  will  not  lift  a  finger  to  prevent  it. 
Mark  puts  the  '  killing '  before  the  '  casting  out  of  the 
vineyard,'  while  Matthew  and  Luke  invert  the  order 
of  the  two  things.  The  slaughtered  corpse  was,  as  a 
further  indignity,  thrown  over  the  wall,  by  which  is 
symbolically  expressed  His  exclusion  from  Israel,  and 
the  vine-dressers'  delusion  that  they  now  had  secured 
undisturbed  possession. 

IV.  The  last  point  is  the  authoritative  sentence  on 
the  evil-doers.  Mark's  condensed  account  makes  Christ 
Himself  answer  His  own  question.  Probably  we  are 
to  suppose  that,  with  hypocritical  readiness,  some  of 
the  rulers  replied,  as  the  other  Evangelists  represent, 
and  that  Jesus  then  solemnly  took  up  their  words.  If 
anything  could  have  enraged  the  rulers  more  than  the 
parable  itself,  the  distinct  declaration  of  the  trans- 
ference of  Israel's  prerogatives  to  more  worthy  tenants 
would  do  so.  The  words  are  heavy  with  doom.  They 
carry  a  lesson  for  us.    Stewardship  implies  responsi- 


vs.  1-12]        DISHONEST  TENANTS  143 

bility,  and  faithlessness,  sooner  or  later,  involves 
deprivation.  The  only  way  to  keep  God's  gifts  is  to 
use  them  for  His  glory.  'The  grace  of  God,'  says 
Luther  somewhere,  'is  like  a  flying  summer  shower.' 
Where  are  Ephesus  and  the  other  apocalyptic  churches  ? 
Let  us  '  take  heed  lest,  if  God  spared  not  the  natural 
branches.  He  also  spare  not  us.' 

Jesus  leaves  the  hearers  with  the  old  psalm  ringing 
in  their  ears,  which  proclaimed  that  '  the  stone  which 
the  builders  rejected  becomes  the  head  stone  of  the 
corner.'  Other  words  of  the  same  psalm  had  been 
chanted  by  the  crowd  in  the  procession  on  entering  the 
city.  Their  fervour  was  cooling,  but  the  prophecy 
would  still  be  fulfilled.  The  builders  are  the  same  as 
the  vine-dressers ;  their  rejection  of  the  stone  is  parallel 
with  slaying  the  Son. 

But  though  Jesus  foretells  His  death,  He  also  foretells 
His  triumph  after  death.  How  could  He  have  spoken, 
almost  in  one  breath,  the  prophecy  of  His  being  slain 
and  '  cast  out  of  the  vineyard,'  and  that  of  His  being 
exalted  to  be  the  very  apex  and  shining  summit  of  the 
true  Temple,  unless  He  had  been  conscious  that  His 
death  was  indeed  not  the  end,  but  the  centre,  of  His 
work,  and  His  elevation  to  universal  and  unchanging 
dominion? 


GOD'S  LAST  ARROW 

'Having  yet  therefore  one  son,  his  well-beloved,  he  sent  him  also  last  unto 
them.'— Mark  xii.  6. 

Reference  to  Isaiah  v.  There  are  differences  in  detail 
here  which  need  not  trouble  us. 

Isaiah's  parable  is  a  review  of  the  theocratic  history 
of  Israel,  and  clearly  the  messengers  are  the  prophets ; 
here  Christ  speaks  of  Himself  and  His  own  mission  to 
Israel,  and  goes  on  to  tell  of  His  death  as  already 
accomplished. 

I.  The  Son  who  follows  and  surpasses  the  servants. 

(a)  Our  Lord  here  places  Himself  in  the  line  of  the 
prophets  as  coming  for  a  similar  purpose.  The  mis- 
sion to  Israel  was  the  same.  The  mission  of  His  life 
was  the  same. 

The  last  words  of  the  lawgiver  certainly  point  to  a 
person  (Deut.  xviii.  18) :  'A  prophet  shall  the  Lord  your 
God  raise  up  unto  you  like  unto  me.  Him  shall  ye 
hear.'  How  ridiculous  the  cool  superciliousness  with 
which  modern  historical  criticism  '  pooh-poohs '  that 
interpretation  !  But  the  contrast  is  quite  as  prominent 
as  the  resemblance.  This  saying  is  one  which  occurs 
in  all  the  Synoptics,  and  is  as  full  a  declaration  of  Son- 
ship  as  any  in  John's  Gospel.  It  reposes  on  the  scene 
at  the  baptism  (Matt,  iii.):  'This  is  My  beloved  Son!' 
Such  a  saying  was  well  enough  understood  by  the 
Jews  to  mean  more  than  the  '  Messiah.'  It  clearly 
involves  kindred  to  the  divine  in  a  far  other  and 
higher  sense  than  any  prophet  ever  had  it.  It  involves 
pre-existence.  It  asserts  that  He  was  the  special  object 
of  the  divine  love,  the  '  heir.' 

You  cannot  relieve  the  New  Testament  Christ  of 

144 


V.  6]  GOD'S  LAST  ARROW  145 

the  responsibility  of  having  made  such  assertions. 
There  they  are !  He  did  deliberately  declare  that  He 
was,  in  a  unique  sense,  '  the  Son '  on  whom  the  love  and 
complacency  of  the  Father  rested  continually. 

II.  The  aggravation  of  men's  sins  as  tending  to  the 
enhancement  of  the  divine  efforts. 

The  terrible  Nemesis  of  evil  is  that  it  ever  tends  to 
reproduce  itself  in  aggravated  forms.  Think  of  the 
influence  of  habit ;  the  searing  of  conscience,  so  that 
we  become  able  to  do  things  that  we  would  have 
shrunk  from  at  an  earlier  stage.  Remember  how  im- 
punity leads  to  greater  sin.  So  here  the  first  servant 
is  merely  sent  away  empty,  the  second  is  wounded  and 
disgraced,  the  third  is  killed.  All  evil  is  an  inclined 
plane,  a  steady,  downward  progress.  How  beautifully 
the  opposite  principle  of  the  divine  love  and  patience 
is  represented  as  striving  with  the  increasing  hate  and 
resistance!  According  to  Matthew,  the  householder 
sent  other  servants  '  more  than  the  first,'  and  the  climax 
was  that  he  sent  his  son.  Mightier  forces  are  brought 
to  bear.  This  attraction  increases  as  the  square  of  the 
distance.  The  blacker  the  cloud,  the  brighter  the  sun  ; 
the  thicker  the  ice,  the  hotter  the  flame;  the  harder 
the  soil,  the  stronger  the  ploughshare.  Note,  too,  the 
undertone  of  sacrifice  and  of  yearning  for  the  son 
which  may  be  discerned  in  the  '  householder's  '  words. 
The  son  is  his  *  dearest  treasure,'  his  mightiest  gift, 
than  which  is  nothing  higher. 

The  mission  of  Christ  is  the  ultimate  appeal  of  God 
to  men. 

In  the  primary  sense  of  the  parable  Jesus  does  close 

the  history  of  the  divine  strivings  with  Israel.    After 

Christ,  the  last  of  the  prophets,  the  divine  voice  ceases ; 

after  the  blaze  of  that  light   all  is   dark.    There  is 

VOL.  II.  K 


146  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xii. 

nothing  more  remarkable  in  the  whole  history  of  the 
world  than  that  cessation  in  an  instant,  as  it  were,  of 
the  long,  august  series  of  divine  efforts  for  Israel. 
Henceforward  there  is  an  awful  silence.  'Forsaken 
Israel  wanders  lone.' 

And  the  principle  involved  for  us  is  the  same. 

•  Christ  crucified '  is  more  than  Christ  miracle-work- 
ing. That  'more'  we  have,  as  the  Jews  had.  But  if 
that  avails  not,  then  nothing  else  will. 

He  is  '  last '  because  highest,  strongest,  and  all-suffi- 
cient. 

He  is  '  last '  inasmuch  as  all  since  are  but  echoes  of 
Hia  voice  and  proclaimers  of  His  grace. 

He  is  'last'  as  the  eternal  and  the  permanent,  the 
*  same  for  ever '  (Heb.  xiii.  8).  There  are  to  be  no  new 
powers  for  the  world ;  no  new  forces  to  draw  men  to 
God.  God's  quiver  is  empty,  His  last  bolt  shot,  His 
most  tender  appeal  made. 

III.  The  unwearied  divine  charity. 

•They  will  reverence  My  Son.'  May  we  not  say  this 
is  a  divine  hope?  It  is  not  worth  while  to  make  a 
difficulty  of  the  bold  representation.  It  is  but  parallel 
to  all  the  dealings  of  God  with  men ;  and  it  sets  forth 
the  possibility  that  He  might  have  won  Israel  back  to 
God  and  to  obedience.  It  suggests  the  good  faith  and 
the  earnestness  with  which  God  sent  Him,  and  He 
came,  to  bring  Israel  back  to  God.  But  we  are  not 
to  suppose  that  this  divine  hope  excluded  the  divine 
purpose  of  His  death  or  was  inconsistent  with  that,  for 
He  goes  on  to  speak  of  His  death  as  if  it  were  past 
(verse  8).    This  shows  how  distinctly  He  foreknew  it. 

Its  highest  aspect  is  not  here,  for  it  was  not  needed 
for  the  parable.  'With  wicked  hands  ye  have  crucified,' 
etc.,  is  true,  as  well  as  '  I  lay  it  down  of  Myself.' 


i 


V.  6]  GOD'S  LAST  ARROW  147 

Let  us  lay  to  heart  the  solemn  love  which  warns  by 
prophesying,  tells  what  men  are  going  to  do  in  order 
that  they  may  not  do  it  (and  what  He  will  do  in  order 
that  He  may  not  have  to  do  it).  And  let  us  yield  our- 
selves to  the  power  of  Christ's  death  as  God's  magnet 
for  drawing  us  all  back  to  Him;  and  as  certain  to 
bring  about  at  last  the  satisfaction  of  the  Father's 
long-frustrated  hope :  *  They  will  reverence  my  Son,' 
and  the  fulfilment  of  the  Son's  long-unaccomplished 
prediction:  'I,  if  I  be  lifted  up  from  the  earth,  will 
draw  all  men  unto  Me.' 


NOT  FAR  AND  NOT  IN 

'  Thon  art  not  far  from  the  kingdom  of  God.'— Mare  xli.  34. 

•  A  BRUISED  reed  He  will  not  break,  and  the  smoking 
flax  He  will  not  quench.' 

Here  is  Christ's  recognition  of  the  low  beginnings  of 
goodness  and  faith. 

This  is  a  special  case  of  a  man  who  appears  to  have 
fully  discerned  the  spirituality  and  inwardness  of  law, 
and  to  have  felt  that  the  one  bond  between  God  and 
man  was  love.  He  needed  only  to  have  followed  out 
the  former  thought  to  have  been  smitten  by  the  con- 
viction of  his  own  sinfulness,  and  to  have  reflected 
on  the  latter  to  have  discovered  that  he  needed  some 
one  who  could  certify  and  commend  God's  love  to  him, 
and  thereby  to  kindle  his  to  God.  Christ  recognises 
such  beginnings  and  encourages  him  to  persevere: 
but  warns  him  against  the  danger  of  supposing  him- 
self in  the  kingdom,  and  against  the  prolongation  of 
what  is  only  good  as  a  transition  state. 

This  Scribe  is  an  interesting  study  as  being  one  who 
recognised  the  Law  in  its  spiritual  meaning,  in  opposi- 
tion to  forms  and  ceremonies.  His  intellectual  con- 
victions needed  to  be  led  on  from  recognition  of  the 
spirituality  of  the  Law  to  recognition  of  his  own 
failures.  '  By  law  is  the  knowledge  of  sin.'  His  intel- 
lectual convictions  needed  to  pass  over  into  and  in- 
fluence his  heart  and  life.  He  recognised  true  piety, 
and  was  earnestly  striving  after  it,  but  entrance  into 
the  kingdom  is  by  faith  in  the  Saviour,  who  is  '  the  Way.' 
So  Jesus'  praise  of  him  is  but  measured.  For  in  him 
there  was  separation  between  knowing  and  doing. 

148 


Y.  34]  NOT  FAR  AND  NOT  IN  149 

I.  Who  are  near  ? 

Christ's  kingdom  is  near  us  all,  whether  we  are 
heathen,  infidel,  profligate  or  not. 

Here  is  a  distinct  recognition  of  two  things — (a) 
Degrees  of  approximation;  (6)  decisive  separation 
between  those  who  are,  and  those  who  are  not,  within 
the  kingdom. 

This  Scribe  was  near,  and  yet  not  in,  the  kingdom, 
because,  like  so  many  in  all  ages,  he  had  an  intellectual 
hold  of  principles  which  he  had  never  followed  out  to 
their  intellectual  issues,  nor  ever  enthroned  as,  in  their 
practical  issues,  the  guides  of  his  life.  How  constantly 
we  find  characters  of  similar  incompleteness  among 
ourselves ! 

How  many  of  us  have  true  thoughts  concerning 
God's  law  and  what  it  requires,  which  ought,  in  all 
reason,  to  have  brought  us  to  the  consciousness  of 
our  own  sin,  and  are  yet  untouched  by  one  pang  of 
penitence  !  How  many  of  us  have  lying  in  our  heads, 
like  disused  furniture  in  a  lumber-room,  what  we 
suppose  to  be  beliefs  of  ours,  which  only  need  to  be 
followed  out  to  their  necessary  results  to  refurnish 
with  a  new  equipment  the  whole  of  our  religious 
thinking !  How  few  of  us  do  really  take  pains  to  bring 
our  beliefs  into  clear  sunlight,  and  to  follow  them 
wherever  they  lead  us  !  There  is  no  commoner  fault, 
and  no  greater  foe,  than  the  hazy,  lazy  half-belief,  of 
which  its  owner  neither  knows  the  grounds  nor  per- 
ceives the  intellectual  or  the  practical  issues. 

There  are  multitudes  who  have,  or  have  had,  convic- 
tions of  which  the  only  rational  outcome  is  practical 
surrender  to  Jesus  Christ  by  faith  and  love.  Such 
persons  abound  in  Christian  congregations  and  in 
Christian  homes.     They  are  on  the  verge  of  '  the  great 


150  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.xii. 

surrender,'  but  they  do  not  go  beyond  the  verge,  and 
so  they  perpetrate  *  the  great  refusal.'  And  to  all  such 
the  word  of  our  text  should  sound  as  a  warning  note, 
which  has  also  hope  in  its  itone.  •  Not  far  from '  is  still 
*  outside.' 

II.  Why  they  are  only  near. 

The  reason  is  not  because  of  anything  apart  from 
themselves.  The  Christian  gospel  offers  immediate 
entrance  into  the  Kingdom,  and  all  the  gifts  which 
its  King  can  bestow,  to  all  and  every  one  who  will. 
So  that  the  sole  cause  of  any  man's  non-entrance 
lies  with  himself. 

We  have  spoken  of  failure  to  follow  out  truths 
partially  grasped,  and  that  constitutes  a  reason  which 
affects  the  intellect  mainly,  and  plays  its  part  in  keep- 
ing men  out  of  the  Kingdom. 

But  there  are  other,  perhaps  more  common,  reasons, 
which  intervene  to  prevent  convictions  being  followed 
out  into  their  properly  consequent  acts. 

The  two  most  familiar  and  fatal  of  these  are : — 

(a)  Procrastination. 

(6)  Lingering  love  of  the  world. 

III.  Such  men  cannot  continue  near. 

The  state  is  necessarily  transitional.  It  must  pass 
over  into — (a)  Either  going  on  and  into  the  Kingdom, 
or  (b)  going  further  away  from  it. 

Christ  warns  here,  and  would  stimulate  to  action, 
for — (a)  Convictions  not  acted  on  die;  (6)  truths  not 
followed  out  fade ;  (c)  impressions  resisted  are  harder 
to  be  made  again ;  (d)  obstacles  increase  with  time ; 
(e)  the  habit  of  lingering  becomes  strengthened. 

lY.  Unless  you  are  in,  you  are  finally  shut  out. 

*City  of  refuge.'  It  was  of  no  avail  to  have  been 
near.     •  Strive  to  enter  m.' 

Appeal  to  all  such  as  are  in  this  transition  stage. 


THE  CREDULITY  OF  UNBELIEF 

'Many  shall  come  in  My  name,  saying,  I  am  Christ,  and  shall  deceive  many.'-- 
Mark  xiii.  6. 
'  When  the  Son  of  Man  cometh,  shall  He  find  faith  on  the  earth  ?'— Lukb  xvill.  8, 

It  was  the  same  generation  that  is  represented  in  these 
two  texts  as  void  of  faith  in  the  Son  of  Man,  and  as 
credulously  giving  heed  to  impostors.  Unbelief  and 
superstition  are  closely  allied.  Religion  is  so  vital  a 
necessity,  that  if  the  true  form  of  it  be  cast  aside,  some 
false  form  will  be  eagerly  seized  in  order  to  fill  the 
aching  void.  Men  cannot  permanently  live  without 
some  sort  of  a  faith  in  the  Unseen,  but  they  can  deter- 
mine whether  it  shall  be  a  worthy  recognition  of  a 
worthy  conception  of  that  Unseen,  or  a  debasing 
superstition.  An  epoch  of  materialism  in  philosophic 
thought  has  always  been  followed  by  violent  reaction, 
in  which  quacks  and  fanatics  have  reaped  rich  har- 
vests. If  the  dark  is  not  peopled  with  one  loved  Face, 
our  busy  imagination  will  fill  it  with  a  crowd  of 
horrible  ones. 

Just  as  a  sailor,  looking  out  into  the  night  over 
a  solitary,  islandless  sea,  sees  shapes;  intolerant  of 
the  islandless  expanse,  makes  land  out  of  fogbanks; 
and,  sick  of  silence,  hears  '  airy  tongues '  in  the  moan- 
ings  of  the  wind  and  the  slow  roll  of  the  waves,  so 
men  shudderingly  look  into  the  dark  unknown,  and  if 
they  see  not  their  Father  there,  will  either  shut  their 
eyes  or  strain  them  in  gazing  it  into  shape.  The  sight 
of  Him  is  religion,  the  closed  eye  is  infidelity,  the 
strained  gaze  is  superstition.  The  second  and  the 
third  are  each  so  unsatisfying  that  they  perpetually 
pass  over  into  one  another  and  destroy  one  another, 


152  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xra. 

as  when  I  shut  my  eyes,  I  see  slowly  shaping  itself  a 
coloured  image  of  my  eye,  which  soon  flickers  and 
fluctuates  into  black  nothingness  again,  and  then  rises 
once  more,  once  more  to  fade.  Men,  if  they  believe 
not  in  God,  then  do  service  to  *  them  which  by  nature 
are  no  gods.' 

But  let  us  come  to  more  immediately  Christian 
thoughts.  Christ  does  what  men  so  urgently  require 
to  be  done,  that  if  they  do  not  believe  in  Him  they  will 
be  forced  to  shape  out  for  themselves  some  fancied 
ways  of  doing  it.  The  emotions  which  men  cherish 
towards  Him  so  irrepressibly  need  an  object  to  rest 
on,  that  if  not  He,  then  some  far  less  worthy  one,  will 
be  chosen  to  receive  them. 

It  is  just  to  the  illustration  of  these  thoughts  that  I 
seek  to  turn  now,  and  in  such  alternatives  as  these — 

I.  Reception  of  Christ  as  the  Revealer  is  the  only 
escape  from  unmanly  submission  to  unworthy  pre- 
tenders. 

That  function  is  one  which  the  instincts  of  men  teach 
them  that  they  need. 

Christ  comes  to  satisfy  the  need  as  the  visible  true  em- 
bodiment of  the  Father's  love,  of  the  Father's  wisdom. 

If  He  be  rejected — what  then  ?  Why,  not  that  the 
men  who  reject  will  contentedly  continue  in  darkness 
— that  is  never  possible ;  but  that  some  manner  or 
other  of  satisfying  the  clamant  need  will  be  had  re- 
course to,  and  then  that  to  it  will  be  transferred  the 
submission  and  credence  that  should  have  been  His. 
If  we  have  Him  for  our  Teacher  and  Guide,  then  all 
other  teachers  and  guides  will  take  their  right  places. 
We  shall  not  angrily  repel  their  power,  nor  talk 
loudly  about  '  the  right  of  private  judgment,'  and  our 
independence  of  all  men's  thoughts.     We  are  not  so 


V.  6]    THE  CREDULITY  OF  UNBELIEF   153 

independent.  We  shall  thankfully  accept  all  help  from 
all  men  wiser,  better,  more  manly  than  ourselves, 
whether  they  give  us  uttered  words  of  wisdom  and 
beauty,  having  'grace  poured  into  their  lips,'  or 
whether  they  give  us  lives  ennobled  by  strenuous 
effort,  or  whether  they  give  us  greater  treasure  than 
all  these — the  sight  once  more  of  a  loving  heart.  All 
is  good,  all  is  helpful,  all  we  shall  receive  ;  but  in  pro- 
portion to  the  felt  obligations  we  are  laid  under  to 
them  will  be  the  felt  authority  of  that  saying,  *  Call 
no  man  your  master  on  earth,  for  One  is  your  Master, 
even  Christ.'  That  command  forbids  our  slavishly 
accepting  any  human  domination  over  our  faith,  but 
it  no  less  emphatically  forbids  our  contemptuously 
rejecting  any  human  helper  of  our  joy,  for  it  closes 
with  '  and  all  ye  are  brethren ' — bound  then  to  mutual 
observance,  mutual  helpfulness,  mutual  respect  for 
each  other's  individuality,  mutual  avoidance  of  need- 
less division.  To  have  Him  for  his  Guide  makes  the 
human  guide  gentle  and  tender  among  his  disciples 
•as  a  nurse  among  her  children,'  for  he  remembers 
•the  gentleness  of  Christ,'  and  he  dare  not  be  other 
than  an  imitator  of  Him.  A  Christian  teacher's  spirit 
will  always  be,  '  not  for  that  we  have  dominion  over 
your  faith,  but  we  are  helpers  of  your  joy ' ;  his  most 
earnest  word,  '  I  beseech  you,  therefore,  brethren ' ;  his 
constant  desire,  '  He  must  increase.  I  must  decrease.' 
And  to  have  Christ  for  our  Guide  makes  the  taught 
lovingly  submissive  to  all  who  by  largeness  of  gifts 
and  graces  are  set  by  Him  above  them,  and  yet 
lovingly  recalcitrant  at  any  attempt  to  compel  adhe- 
sion or  force  dogmas.  The  one  freedom  from  undue 
dependence  on  men  and  men's  opinions  lies  in  this 
submission  to  Jesus.    Then  we  can  say,  when  need  is, 


154  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [oh.  xm. 

*  I  have  a  Master.  To  Him  I  submit ;  if  you  seek  to  be 
master,  I  demur :  of  them  who  seemed  to  be  somewhat, 
whatsoever  they  were,  it  maketh  no  matter  to  me.' 

But  the  greatest  danger  is  not  that  our  guides  shall 
insist  on  our  submission,  but  that  we  shall  insist  on 
giving  it.  It  is  for  all  of  us  such  a  burden  to  have  the 
management  of  our  own  fate,  the  forming  of  our  own 
opinions,  the  fearful  responsibility  of  our  own  destiny, 
that  we  are  all  only  too  ready  to  say  to  some  man  or 
other,  from  love  or  from  laziness, '  Where  thou  goest, 
I  will  go ;  thy  people  shall  be  my  people,  and  thy  God 
my  God.' 

Few  things  are  more  strange  and  tragic  than  the 
eagerness  with  which  people  who  are  a  great  deal  too 
enlightened  to  render  allegiance  to  Jesus  Christ  will 
instal  some  teacher  of  their  own  choosing  as  their 
authoritative  master,  will  swallow  his  dicta,  swear  by 
him,  and  glory  in  being  called  by  his  name.  "What 
they  think  it  derogatory  to  their  mental  independence 
to  give  to  the  Teacher  of  Nazareth,  they  freely  give  to 
their  chosen  oracle.  It  is  not  in  *  the  last  times '  only 
that  men  who  will  not  endure  sound  teaching  'heap 
to  themselves  teachers  after  their  own  lusts,'  and  have 
•the  ears'  which  are  fast  closed  to  'the  Truth'  wide 
open  '  to  fables.' 

On  the  small  scale  we  see  this  melancholy  perversity 
of  conduct  exemplified  in  every  little  coterie  and  school 
of  unbelievers. 

On  the  great  scale  Mohammedanism  and  Buddhism, 
with  their  millions  of  adherents,  write  the  same  tragic 
truth  large  in  the  history  of  the  world. 

II.  Faith  in  the  reconciling  Christ  is  the  only  sure 
deliverance  from  debasing  reliance  on  false  means  of 
reconciliation. 


V.  6]  THE  CREDULITY  OF  UNBELIEF    155 

In  a  very  profound  sense  ignorance  and  sin  are  the 
same  fact  regarded  under  two  different  aspects.  And 
in  the  depths  of  their  natures  men  have  the  longing  for 
some  Power  who  shall  put  away  sin,  as  they  have  the 
longing  for  one  that  will  dispel  ignorance.  The  con- 
sciousness of  alienation  from  God  lies  in  the  human 
heart,  dormant  indeed  for  the  most  part,  but  like  a 
coiled,  hibernating  snake,  ready  to  wake  and  strike  its 
poison  into  the  veins.  Christ  by  His  great  work,  and 
specially  by  His  sacrificial  death,  meets  that  universal 
need. 

But  closely  as  His  work  fits  men's  needs,  it  sharply 
opposes  some  of  their  wishes,  and  of  their  interpreta- 
tions of  their  needs.  The  Jew  *  demands  a  sign,'  the 
Greek  craves  a  reasoned  system  of  *  wisdom,'  and  both 
concur  in  finding  the  Cross  an  *  offence.' 

But  the  rejection  of  Jesus  as  the  Reconciler  does  not 
quiet  the  cravings,  which  make  themselves  heard  at 
some  time  or  other  in  most  consciences,  for  deliverance 
from  the  dominion  and  from  the  guilt  of  sin.  And  men 
are  driven  to  adopt  other  expedients  to  fill  up  the  void 
which  their  turning  away  from  Jesus  has  left.  Some- 
times they  fall  back  on  a  vague  reliance  on  a  vague 
assertion  that  '  God  is  merciful ' ;  sometimes  they 
reason  themselves  into  a  belief — or,  at  any  rate,  an 
assertion — that  the  conception  of  sin  is  an  error,  and 
that  men  are  not  guilty.  Sometimes  they  manage  to 
silence  the  inward  voice  that  accuses  and  condemns, 
by  dint  of  not  listening  to  it  or  drowning  it  by  other 
noises. 

But  these  expedients  fail  them  some  time  or  other, 
and  then,  if  they  have  not  cast  the  burden  of  their  sin 
and  their  sins  on  the  great  Reconciler,  they  either  have 
to  weary  themselves  with  painful  and  vain  efforts  to 


156  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xra. 

be  their  own  redeemers,  or  they  fall  under  the  domina- 
tion of  a  priest. 

Hence  the  hideous  penances  of  heathenism ;  and 
hence,  too,  the  power  of  sacramentarian  and  sacerdotal 
perversions  of  evangelical  truth. 

III.  Faith  in  Christ  as  the  Regenerator  is  the  only 
deliverance  from  baseless  hopes  for  the  world. 

The  world  is  to-day  full  of  moaning  voices  crying, 
'Art  thou  He  that  should  come,  or  do  we  look  for 
another  ? '  and  it  is  full  of  confident  voices  proclaiming 
other  means  of  its  regeneration  than  letting  Christ 
'  make  all  things  new.' 

The  conviction  that  society  needs  to  be  reconstituted 
on  other  principles  is  spread  everywhere,  and  is  often 
associated  with  intense  disbelief  in  Christ  the  Re- 
generator. 

Has  not  the  past  proved  that  all  schemes  for  the 
regeneration  of  society  which  do  not  grapple  with  the 
fact  of  sin,  and  which  do  not  provide  a  means  of  in- 
fusing into  human  nature  a  new  impulse  and  direction, 
will  end  in  failure,  and  are  only  too  likely  to  end  in 
blood  ?  These  two  requirements  are  met  by  Jesus,  and 
by  Him  only,  and  whoever  rejects  Him  and  His  gift  of 
pardon  and  cleansing,  and  His  inbreathing  of  a  new 
life  into  the  individual,  will  fail  in  his  effort,  however 
earnest  and  noble  in  many  aspects,  to  redeem  society 
and  bring  about  a  fair  new  world. 

It  is  pitiable  to  see  the  waste  of  high  aspiration  and 
eager  effort  in  so  many  quarters  to-day.  But  that 
waste  is  sure  to  attend  every  scheme  which  does  not 
start  from  the  recognition  of  Christ's  work  as  the 
basis  of  the  world's  transformation,  and  does  not 
crown  Him  as  the  King,  because  He  is  the  Saviour,  of 
mankind. 


AUTHORITY  AND  WORK 

'For  the  Son  of  Man  is  as  a  man  taking  a  far  journey,  who  left  his  house,  and 
gave  authority  to  his  seryants,  and  to  every  man  his  work,  and  commanded  the 
porter  to  watch.'— Makk  xiii.  34. 

Church  order  is  not  directly  touched  on  in  the  Gospels, 
but  the  principles  which  underlie  all  Church  order  are 
distinctly  laid  down.  The  whole  community  of  Chris- 
tian people  is  a  family  or  household,  being  brethren 
because  possessors  of  a  new  life  through  Christ.  In 
that  household  there  is  one  'Master,'  and  all  its 
members  are  'servants.'  That  name  suggests  the 
purpose  for  which  they  exist;  the  meaning  of  all 
their  offices,  dignities,  etc. 

I.  The  authority  with  which  the  servants  are  in- 
rested. 

We  hear  a  great  deal  about  the  authority  of  the 
Church  in  these  days,  as  a  determiner  of  truth  and  as 
a  prescriber  of  Christian  action.  It  means  generally 
official  authority,  the  power  of  guidance  and  definition 
of  the  Church's  action,  etc.,  which  some  people  think 
is  lodged  in  the  hands  of  preachers,  pastors,  priests, 
either  individually  or  collectively.  There  is  nothing 
of  that  sort  meant  here.  Whatever  this  authority  is, 
it  belongs  to  the  whole  body  of  the  servants,  not  to 
individuals  among  them.  It  is  the  prerogative  of  the 
whole  ecclesia,  not  of  some  handful  of  them.  '  This 
honour,'  whatever  it  be,  •  have  all  the  saints.' 

Explain  by  reference  to  '  the  kings  of  the  earth  exer- 
cise lordship  over  them ' ;  '  the  greatest  shall  be  your 
servant.'  It  is  then  but  another  name  for  capacity  for 
service,  power  to  bless,  etc. 

And  this  idea  is  still  further  borne  out  if  we  go  back 

1S7 


158  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xm. 

to  the  parable  of  our  text.  A  man  leaves  his  house  in 
charge  of  his  servants.  To  them  is  committed  the  re- 
sponsibility for  his  goods.  His  honour  and  interests 
are  in  their  hands.  They  have  control  over  his  posses- 
sions. This  is  the  analogy  which  our  Lord  suggests 
as  presenting  a  vivid  likeness  to  our  position  in  the 
world. 

Christ  has  committed  the  care  of  His  kingdom,  the 
glory  of  His  name,  the  growth  of  His  cause  in  the 
world  to  His  Church,  and  has  endowed  it  with  all 
•talents,'  i.e.  gifts  needful  for  that  work.  Or,  to  put 
it  in  other  words,  they  are  His  representatives  in  the 
world.  They  have  to  defend  His  honour.  His  name  is 
scandalised  or  glorijBed  by  their  actions.  They  have 
to  see  to  His  interests.  They  are  charged  with  the 
carrying  out  of  His  mind  and  purposes. 

The  foundation  of  all  is  laid.  Henceforth  building 
on  it  is  all,  and  that  is  to  be  done  by  men.  Human 
lips  and  Christian  effort — not  without  the  divine 
Spirit  in  the  word — are  to  be  the  means. 

It  is  as  when  some  commander  plans  his  battle, 
and  from  an  eminence  overlooks  the  current  of  the 
fight,  and  marks  the  plunging  legions  as  they  struggle 
through  the  smoke.  He  holds  all  the  tremendous 
machinery  in  his  hands.  The  plan  and  the  glory  are 
his,  but  the  execution  of  the  plan  lies  with  the  troops. 

In  a  still  more  true  sense  all  the  glory  of  the  Chris- 
tian conquest  of  the  world  is  His,  but  still  the  instru- 
ments are  ourselves.  The  whole  counsel  of  God  is 
on  our  side.  We  '  go  not  a  warfare  at  our  own 
charges.'  Note  the  perfect  consistency  of  this  with  all 
that  we  hold  of  the  necessity  of  divine  influence,  etc. 

His  servants  are  intrusted  with  all  His  'goods.* 
They  have   authority   over   the   gifts  which   He   has 


V.  34]         AUTHORITY  AND  WORK  159 

given  them,  i.e.  Christian  men  are  stewards  of  Christ's 
riches  for  others. 

They  have  access  to  the  free  use  of  them  all  for 
themselves. 

Thus  the  'authority'  is  all  derived.  It  is  all  given 
for  the  sake  of  others.  It  is  all  capacity  for  service. 
Hence — 

II.  The  authority  with  which  the  servants  are  in- 
vested binds  every  one  of  them  to  hard  work  for 
Christ. 

*  To  every  man  his  work.* 

(1)  Gifts  involve  duties.  That  is  the  first  great 
thought.  To  have  received  binds  us  to  impart.  'Freely 
ye  have  received,  freely  give.' 

All  selfish  possession  of  the  gifts  which  Christ 
bestows  is  grave  sin. 

The  price  at  which  they  were  procured,  that  miracle 
and  mystery  of  self-sacrifice,  is  the  great  pattern  as 
well  as  the  great  motive  for  our  service. 

The  purpose  for  which  we  have  received  them  is 
plainly  set  forth  :  in  the  existence  of  the  solidarity  in 
which  we  are  all  bound ;  in  the  definite  utterances  of 
Scripture. 

The  need  for  their  exercise  is  only  too  palpable  in 
the  condition  of  things  around  us. 

(2)  In  this  multitude  of  servants  every  one  has  his 
own  task. 

The  universality  of  the  great  gift  leads  to  a  corre- 
sponding universality  of  obligation.  All  Christians 
have  their  gifts.  Each  of  us  has  his  special  work  marked 
out  for  him  by  character,  relationships,  circumstances, 
natural  tastes,  etc. 

How  solemn  a  divine  call  there  is  in  these  individual 
peculiarities  which  we  so  often  think  of  as  unimportant 


160  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xiii. 

accidents,  or  regard  mainly  in  their  bearing  on  our  own 
ease  and  comfort !  How  reverently  we  should  regard 
the  diversities  which  are  thus  revelations  of  God's  will 
concerning  our  tasks  !  How  earnestly  we  should  seek 
to  know  what  it  is  that  we  are  fitted  for ! 

The  importance  of  all  protests  against  priestly 
assumption  lies  here,  that  they  strengthen  the  force 
with  which  we  proclaim  that  every  man  has  his  *  work.' 

Ponder  the  variety  of  characters  and  gifts  which 
Christ  gives  and  desires  His  servants  to  use,  and  the 
indispensable  need  for  them  all.  The  ideal  Church  is 
the  'body'  of  Christ,  in  which  each  member  has  its 
place  and  function. 

Our  fault  in  this  matter. 

(3)  The  duties  are  to  be  done  in  the  spirit  of  hard 
toil. 

The  servant  has  'his  work'  allotted  him,  and  the 
word  implies  that  the  work  calls  for  effort.  The  race 
is  not  to  be  run  without  dust  and  sweat.  Our  Chris- 
tian service  is  not  to  be  regarded  as  a  •  bye-product '  or 
parergon.  It  is,  so  to  speak,  a  vocation,  not  an  avoc- 
ation. It  deserves  and  demands  all  the  energy  that 
we  can  put  forth,  continuity  and  constancy,  plan  and 
system.  Nothing  is  to  be  done  for  God,  any  more 
than  for  ourselves,  without  toil.  '  In  the  sweat  of 
thy  brow  shalt  thou  eat  bread  and  give  it  to  others.' 

III.  To  do  this  work,  watchfulness  is  needed. 

The  division  of  tasks  between  *  servant'  and  '  porter' 
is  only  part  of  the  drapery  of  the  parable.  To  show 
that  watchfulness  belongs  to  all,  see  the  two  following 
verses. 

What  is  this  watchfulness  ? 

Not  constant  fidgety  curiosity  about  the  coming  of 
the  Lord;  not  hunting  after  apocalyptic  dates.    The 


V.  34]        AUTHORITY  AND  WORK  161 

modern  impression  seems  to  be  that  such  study  is 
'watchfulness.'  Christ  says  that  the  time  of  His 
coming  is  hidden  (see  previous  verses).  Ignorance 
of  that  is  the  very  reason  why  we  are  to  watch. 
Watchfulness,  then,  is  just  a  profound  and  constant 
feeling  of  the  transiency  of  this  present.  The  mind 
is  to  be  kept  detached  from  it ;  the  eye  and  heart  are 
to  be  going  out  to  things  '  unseen  and  eternal ' ;  we  are 
to  be  familiarising  ourselves  with  the  thought  that 
the  world  is  passing  away. 

This  watchfulness  is  an  indispensable  part  of  our 
•work.'  The  true  Christian  thought  of  the  transiency 
of  the  world  sets  us  to  work  the  more  vigorously  in 
it,  and  increases,  not  diminishes,  our  sense  of  the  im- 
portance of  time  and  of  earthly  things,  and  braces  us 
to  our  tasks  by  the  thought  of  the  brevity  of  oppor- 
tunity, as  well  as  by  guarding  us  against  tastes  and 
habits  which  eat  all  earnestness  out  of  the  soul. 

Thus  'working  and  watching,'  happy  will  be  the 
servant  whom  his  Lord  will  find  *  so  doing,'  i.e.  at  work, 
not  idly  looking  for  Him.  Our  common  duties  are  the 
best  preparation  for  our  Lord's  coming. 


THE  ALABASTER  BOX 

*  And  Jeans  said,  Let  her  alone ;  why  trouble  ye  her}  she  hath  wronght  a  grood 
work  on  Me.  ...  8.  She  hath  done  what  she  could :  she  is  come  aforehand  to 
anoint  My  body  to  the  burying.  9.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  Wheresoever  this  gospel 
shall  be  preached  throughout  the  whole  world,  this  also  that  she  hath  done  shall 
be  spoken  of  for  a  memorial  of  her.'— Mare  xiv.  6-9. 

John's  Gospel  sets  this  incident  in  its  due  framework 
of  time  and  place,  and  tells  us  the  names  of  the  actors. 
The  time  was  within  a  week  of  Calvary,  the  place  was 
Bethany,  where,  as  John  significantly  reminds  us, 
Jesus  had  raised  Lazarus  from  the  dead,  thereby  con- 
necting the  feast  with  that  incident ;  the  woman  who 
broke  the  box  of  ointment  and  poured  the  perfume  on 
the  head  and  feet  of  Jesus  was  Mary ;  the  first  critic  of 
her  action  was  Judas.  Selfishness  blames  love  for  the 
profusion  and  prodigality,  which  to  it  seem  folly  and 
waste.  The  disciples  chimed  in  with  the  objection,  not 
because  they  were  superior  to  Mary  in  wisdom,  but 
because  they  were  inferior  in  consecration. 

John  tells  us,  too,  that  Martha  was  'amongst  them 
that  served.'  The  characteristics  of  the  two  sisters  are 
preserved.  The  two  types  of  character  which  they 
respectively  represent  have  great  difficulty  in  under- 
standing and  doing  justice  to  one  another.  Christ 
understands  and  does  justice  to  them  both.  Martha, 
bustling,  practical,  utilitarian  to  the  finger-tips,  does 
not  much  care  about  listening  to  Christ's  words  of 
wisdom.  She  has  not  any  very  high-strung  or  finely- 
spun  emotions,  but  she  can  busy  herself  in  getting  a 
meal  ready ;  she  loves  Him  with  all  her  heart,  and  she 
takes  her  own  way  of  showing  it.  But  she  gets  im- 
patient with  her  sister,  and  thinks  that  her  sitting  at 

163 


vs.  6-9]        THE  ALABASTER  BOX  163 

Christ's  feet  is  a  dreamy  waste  of  time,  and  not  with- 
out a  touch  of  selfishness,  'taking  no  care  for  me, 
though  I  have  got  so  much  on  my  back.'  And  so, 
in  like  manner,  Mary  is  made  out  to  be  a  monster 
of  selfishness ;  '  Why  was  not  this  ointment  sold  for 
three  hundred  pence,  and  given  to  the  poor?'  She 
could  not  serve,  she  would  only  have  been  in  Martha's 
road  if  she  had  tried.  But  she  had  one  precious  thing  • 
which  was  her  very  own,  and  she  caught  it  up,  and  in  / 
the  irrepressible  burst  of  her  thankful  love,  as  she  saw 
Lazarus  sitting  there  at  the  table  beside  Jesus,  she 
poured  the  liquid  perfume  on  His  head  and  feet.  He 
casts  His  shield  over  the  poor,  unpractical  woman,  who 
did  such  an  utterly  useless  thing,  for  which  a  basin  of 
water  and  a  towel  would  have  served  far  better.  \  There 
are  a  great  many  useless  things  which,  in  Heaven's 
estimate,  are  more  valuable  than  a  great  many  appar- 
ently more  practical  ones.  Christ  accepts  the  service, 
and  in  His  deep  words  lays  down  three  or  four  prin- 
ciples which  it  would  do  us  all  good  to  carry  with  us 
into  our  daily  lives.  So  I  shall  now  try  to  gather  from 
these  utterances  of  our  Lord's  some  great  truths  about 
Christian  service. 

I.  The  first  of  them  is  the  motive  which  hallows 
everything. 

*  She  hath  wrought  a  good  work  on  Me.'  Now  that 
is  pretty  nearly  a  definition  of  what  a  good  work  is, 
and  you  see  it  is  very  unlike  our  conventional  notions 
of  what  constitutes  a  '  good  work.'  Christ  implies  that 
anything,  no  matter  what  are  its  other  characteristics, 
that  is  *  on '  Him,  that  is  to  say,  directed  towards  Him 
under  the  impulse  of  simple  love  to  Him,  is  a  *  good  ^ 
work ' ;  and  the  converse  follows,  that  nothing  which 
has  not  that  saving  salt  of  reference  to  Him  in  it 


164  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xrv. 

deserves  the  title.  Did  you  ever  think  of  what  an 
extraordinary  position  that  is  for  a  man  to  take  up  ? 
•  Think  about  Me  in  what  you  do,  and  you  will  do  good. 
Do  anything,  no  matter  what,  because  you  love  Me, 
and  it  will  be  lifted  up  into  high  regions,  and  become 
transfigured ;  a  good  work.'  He  took  the  best  that  any 
one  could  give  Him,  whether  it  was  of  outward  posses- 
sions or  of  inward  reverence,  abject  submission,  and  love 
and  trust.  He  never  said  to  any  man,  •  You  are  going 
over  the  score.  You  are  exaggerating  about  Me.  Stand 
up,  for  I  also  am  a  Man.'  He  did  say  once, '  Why  callest 
thou  Me  good  ? '  not  because  it  was  an  incorrect  attri- 
bution, but  because  it  was  a  mere  piece  of  conventional 
politeness.  And  in  all  other  cases,  not  only  does  He 
accept  as  His  rightful  possession  the  utmost  of  rever- 
ence that  any  man  can  do  Him,  and  bring  Him,  but 
He  here  implies,  if  He  does  not,  as  He  almost  does, 
specifically  declare,  that  to  be  done  for  His  sake  lifts 
a  deed  into  the  region  of  *  good '  works. 

Have  you  reflected  what  such  an  attitude  implies  as 
to  the  self -consciousness  of  the  Man  who  took  it,  and 
whether  it  is  intelligible,  not  to  say  admirable,  or  rather 
whether  it  is  not  worthy  of  reprobation,  except  upon 
one  hypothesis — 'Thou  art  the  everlasting  Son  of  the 
Father,'  and  all  men  honour  God  when  they  honour 
the  Incarnate  Word?  But  that  is  aside  from  my  pre- 
sent purpose. 

Is  not  this  conception,  that  the  motive  of  reverence 
and  love  to  Him  ennobles  and  sanctifies  every  deed,  the 
very  fundamental  principle  of  Christian  morality  ?  All 
things  are  sanctified  when  they  are  done  for  His  sake. 
You  plunge  a  poor  pebble  into  a  brook,  and  as  the 
sunlit  ripples  pass  over  its  surface,  the  hidden  veins  of 
delicate  colour  come  out  and  glow,  and  the  poor  stone 


vs.  6-9]        THE  ALABASTER  BOX  165 

looks  a  jewel,  and  is  magnified  as  well  as  glorified  by- 
being  immersed  in  the  stream.  Plunge  your  work  into 
Christ,  and  do  it  for  Him,  and  the  giver  and  the  gift 
will  be  greatened  and  sanctified. 

But,  brethren,  if  we  take  this  point  of  view,  and  look 
to  the  motive,  and  not  to  ttie  manner  or  the  issues,  or 
the  immediate  objects,  of  our  actions,  as  determining 
whether  they  are  good  or  no,  it  will  revolutionise  a 
great  many  of  our  thoughts,  and  bring  new  ideas  into 
much  of  our  conventional  language.  '  A  good  work '  is 
not  a  piece  of  beneficence  or  benevolence,  still  less  is 
it  to  be  confined  to  those  actions  which  conventional 
Christianity  has  chosen  to  dignify  by  the  name.  It  is 
a  designation  that  should  not  be  clotted  into  certain 
specified  corners  of  a  life,  but  be  extended  over  them 
all.  The  things  which  more  specifically  go  under  such 
a  name,  the  kind  of  things  that  Judas  wanted  to  have 
substituted  for  the  utterly  useless,  lavish  expenditure 
by  this  heart  that  was  burdened  with  the  weight  of 
its  own  blessedness,  come,  or  do  not  come,  under  the 
designation,  according  as  there  is  present  in  them,  not 
only  natural  charity  to  the  poor  whom '  ye  have  always 
with  you,'  but  the  higher  reference  of  them  to  Christ 
Himself.  All  these  lower  forms  of  beneficence  are  im-  ^ 
perfect  without  that.  And  instead  of,  as  we  have  been 
taught  by  authoritative  voices  of  late  years,  the  service 
of  man  being  the  true  service  of  God,  the  relation  of 
the  two  terms  is  precisely  the  opposite,  and  it  is  the 
service  of  God  that  will  effloresce  into  all  service  of 
man.  Judas  did  not  do  much  for  the  poor,  and  a 
great  many  other  people  who  are  sarcastic  upon 
the  'folly,'  the  ' uncalculating  impulses'  of  Christian 
love,  with  its  'wasteful  expenditure,'  and  criticise  us 
because  we  are  spending  time  and  energy  and  love  upon 


166  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xiv. 

objects  which  they  think  are  moonshine  and  mist,  do 
little  more  than  he  did,  and  what  beneficence  they  do 
exercise  has  to  be  hallowed  by  this  reference  to  Jesus 
before  it  can  aspire  to  be  beneficence  indeed. 

I  sometimes  wish  that  this  generation  of  Christian 
people,  amid  its  multifarious  schemes  of  beneficence, 
with  none  of  which  would  one  interfere  for  a  moment, 
would  sometimes  let  itself  go  into  manifestations  of  its 
love  to  Jesus  Christ,  which  had  no  use  at  all  except  to 
relieve  its  own  burdened  heart.  I  am  afraid  that  the 
lower  motives,  which  are  all  right  and  legitimate  when 
they  are  lower,  are  largely  hustling  the  higher  ones  into 
the  background,  and  that  the  river  has  got  so  many 
ponds  to  fill,  and  so  many  canals  to  trickle  through, 
and  so  many  plantations  to  irrigate  and  make  verdant, 
that  there  is  a  danger  of  its  falling  low  at  its  fountain, 
and  running  shallow  in  its  course.  One  sometimes 
would  like  to  see  more  things  done  for  Him  that  the 
world  would  call  *  utter  folly,'  and  *  prodigal  waste,'  and 
*  absolutely  useless.'  Jesus  Christ  has  a  great  many 
strange  things  in  His  treasure-house — widows'  mites, 
cups  of  water,  Mary's  broken  vase — has  He  anything  of 
yours  ?    *  She  hath  wrought  a  good  work  on  Me.' 

II.  Now,  there  is  another  lesson  that  I  would  gather 
from  our  Lord's  apologising  for  Mary,  and  that  is  the 
measure  and  the  manner  of  Christian  service. 

'  She  hath  done  what  she  could ' ;  that  is  generally 
read  as  if  it  were  an  excuse.  So  it  is,  or  at  least  it  is  a 
vindication  of  the  manner  and  the  direction  of  Maijy's 
expression  of  love  and  devotion.  But  whilst  it  is  an 
apologia  for  the  form,  it  is  a  high  demand  in  regard  to 
the  measure. 

'She  hath  done  what  she  could.'  Christ  would  not 
have  said  that  if  she  had  taken  a  niggardly  spoonful 


vs.  6-9]         THE  ALABASTER  BOX  167 

out  of  the  box  of  ointment,  and  dribbled  that,  in  slow 
and  half -grudging  drops,  on  His  head  and  feet.  It  was 
because  it  all  went  that  it  was  to  Him  thus  admirable. 
I  think  it  is  John  Foster  who  says, '  Power  to  its  last 
particle  is  duty.'  The  question  is  not  how  much  have  I 
done,  or  given,  but  could  I  have  done  or  given  more  ? 
We  Protestants  have  indulgences  of  our  own;  the 
guinea  or  the  hundred  guineas  that  we  give  in  a  certain 
direction,  we  some  of  us  seem  to  think,  buy  for  us  the 
right  to  do  as  we  will  with  all  the  rest.  But '  she  hath 
done  what  she  could.'  It  all  went.  And  that  is  the  law 
for  us  Christian  people,  because  the  Christian  life  is  to 
be  ruled  by  the  great  law  of  self-sacrifice,  as  the  only 
adequate  expression  of  our  recognition  of,  and  our  being 
affected  by,  the  great  Sacrifice  that  gave  Himself  for  us. 

'  Give  all  thou  canst !     High  Heaven  rejects  the  lore 
Of  nicely  calculated  less  or  more.' 

But  whilst  thus  there  is  here  a  definite  demand  for 
the  entire  surrender  of  ourselves  and  our  activities  to 
Jesus  Christ,  there  is  also  the  wonderful  vindication  of 
the  idiosyncrasy  of  the  worker,  and  the  special  manner 
of  her  gift.  It  was  not  Mary's  metier  to  serve  at  the 
table,  nor  to  do  any  practical  thing.  She  did  not  know 
what  there  was  for  her  to  do  ;  but  something  she  must 
do.  So  she  caught  up  her  alabaster  box,  and  without 
questioning  herself  about  the  act,  let  her  heart  have  its 
way,  and  poured  it  out  on  Christ.  It  was  the  only 
thing  she  could  do,  and  she  did  it.  It  was  a  very  use- 
less thing.  It  was  an  entirely  unnecessary  expenditure 
of  the  perfume.  There  might  have  been  a  great  many 
practical  purposes  found  for  it,  but  it  was  her  way. 

Christ  says  to  each  of  us.  Be  yourselves,  take  circum- 
Btances,  capacities,  opportunities,  individual  character, 


168  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xiv. 

as  laying  down  the  lines  along  which  you  have  to 
travel.  Do  not  imitate  other  people.  Do  not  envy 
other  people ;  be  yourselves,  and  let  your  love  take  its 
natural  expression,  whatever  folk  round  you  may  snarl 
and  sneer  and  carp  and  criticise.  •  She  hath  done  what 
she  could,'  and  so  He  accepts  the  gift. 

Engineers  tell  us  that  the  steam-engine  is  a  very 
wasteful  machine,  because  so  little  of  the  energy  is 
brought  into  actual  operation.  I  am  afraid  that  there 
are  a  great  many  of  us  Christian  people  like  that, 
getting  so  much  capacity,  and  turning  out  so  little 
work.  And  there  are  a  great  many  more  of  us  who 
simply  pick  up  the  kind  of  work  that  is  popular  round 
us,  and  never  consult  our  own  bent,  nor  follow  this 
humbly  and  bravely,  wherever  it  will  take  us.  •  She 
hath  done  what  she  could.' 

Ill,  And  now  the  last  thought  that  I  would  gather 
from  these  words  is  as  to  the  significance  and  the  per- 
petuity of  the  work  which  Christ  accepts. 

'She  hath  come  beforehand  to  anoint  My  body  to 
the  burying.*  I  do  not  suppose  that  such  a  thought 
was  in  Mary's  mind  when  she  snatched  up  her  box  of 
ointment,  and  poured  it  out  on  Christ's  head.  But  it 
was  a  meaning  that  He,  in  His  tender  pity  and  wise  love 
and  foresight,  put  into  it,  pathetically  indicating,  too, 
how  the  near  Cross  was  filling  His  thought,  even  whilst 
He  sat  at  the  humble  rustic  feast  in  Bethany  village. 

He  puts  meaning  into  the  service  of  love  which 
He  accepts.  Yes,  He  always  does.  For  all  the  little 
bits  of  service  that  we  can  bring  get  worked  up  into 
the  great  whole,  the  issues  of  which  lie  far  beyond 
anything  that  we  conceive.  *  Thou  sowest  not  that 
body  that  shall  be,  but  bare  grain  .  .  .  and  God  giveth 
it  a  body  as  it  hath  pleased  Him.'    We  cast  the  seed 


vs.  6-9]        THE  ALABASTER  BOX  169 

into  the  furrows.  Who  can  tell  what  the  harvest  is 
going  to  be  ?  We  know  nothing  about  the  great  issues 
that  may  suddenly,  or  gradually,  burst  from,  or  be 
evolved  out  of,  the  small  deeds  that  we  do.  So,  then, 
let  us  take  care  of  the  end,  so  to  speak,  which  is  under 
our  control,  and  that  is  the  motive.  And  Jesus  Christ 
will  take  care  of  the  other  end  that  is  beyond  our 
control,  and  that  is  the  issue.  He  will  bring  forth 
what  seemeth  to  Him  good,  and  we  shall  be  as  much 
astonished  'when  we  get  yonder'  at  what  has  come 
out  of  what  we  did  here,  as  poor  Mary,  standing  there 
behind  Him,  was  when  He  translated  her  act  into  so 
much  higher  a  meaning  than  she  had  seen  in  it. 

*  Lord  !  when  saw  we  Thee  hungry  and  fed  Thee  ? ' 
We  do  not  know  what  we  are  doing.  We  are  like  the 
Hindoo  weavers  that  are  said  to  weave  their  finest 
webs  in  dark  rooms;  and  when  the  shutters  come 
down,  and  not  till  then,  shall  we  find  out  the  meanings 
of  our  service  of  love. 

Christ  makes  the  work  perpetual  as  well  as  signi- 
ficant by  declaring  that '  in  the  whole  world  this  shall 
be  preached  for  a  memorial  of  her.'  Have  not  'the 
poor '  got  far  more  good  out  of  Mary's  box  of  ointment 
than  the  three  hundred  pence  that  a  few  of  them  lost 
by  it  ?  Has  it  not  been  an  inspiration  to  the  Church 
ever  since  ?  '  The  house  was  filled  with  the  odour  of  the 
ointment.'  The  fragrance  was  soon  dissipated  in  the 
scentless  air,  but  the  deed  smells  sweet  and  blossoms 
for  ever.  It  is  perpetual  in  its  record,  perpetual  in 
God's  remembrance,  perpetual  in  its  results  to  the  doer, 
and  in  its  results  in  the  world,  though  these  may  be 
indistinguishable,  just  as  the  brook  is  lost  in  the  river 
and  the  river  in  the  sea. 

But  did  you  ever  notice  that  the  Evangelist  who 


170  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xiv. 

records  the  promise  of  perpetual  remembrance  of  the 
act  does  not  tell  us  who  did  it,  and  that  the  Evangelists 
who  tell  us  who  did  it  do  not  record  the  promise  of 
perpetual  remembrance?  Never  mind  whether  your 
deed  is  labelled  with  your  address  or  not.  God  knows 
to  whom  it  belongs,  and  that  is  enough.  As  Paul  says 
in  one  of  his  letters,  *  other  my  fellow-labourers  also, 
whose  names  are  in  the  Book  of  Life.'  Apparently 
he  had  forgotten  the  names,  or  perhaps  did  not  think 
it  needful  to  occupy  space  in  his  letter  with  detailing 
them,  and  so  makes  that  graceful,  half -apologetic  sug- 
gestion that  they  are  inscribed  on  a  more  august  page. 
The  work  and  the  worker  are  associated  in  that  Book, 
and  that  is  enough. 

Brethren,  the  question  of  Judas  is  far  more  fitting 
when  asked  of  other  people  than  of  Christians.  *  To 
what  purpose  is  this  waste  ? '  may  well  be  said  to  those 
of  you  who  are  taking  mind,  and  heart,  and  will, 
capacity,  and  energy,  and  all  life,  and  using  it  for  lower 
purposes  than  the  service  of  God,  and  the  manifesta- 
tion of  loving  obedience  to  Jesus  Christ.  '  Why  do  ye 
spend  money  for  that  which  is  not  bread  ?  *  Is  it  not 
waste  to  buy  disappointments  at  the  price  of  a  soul 
and  of  a  life?  Why  do  ye  spend  that  money  thus? 
•Whose  image  and  superscription  hath  it?'  Whose 
name  is  stamped  upon  our  spirits?  To  whom  should 
they  be  rendered  ?  Better  for  us  to  ask  ourselves  the 
question  to-day  about  all  the  godless  parts  of  our  lives, 
*  To  what  purpose  is  this  waste  ? '  than  to  have  to  ask 
it  yonder  !  Everything  but  giving  our  whole  selves  to 
Jesus  Christ  is  waste.  It  is  not  waste  to  lay  ourselves 
and  our  possessions  at  His  feet.  'He  that  loveth  his 
life  shall  lose  it,  and  he  that  loseth  his  life  for  My  sake, 
the  same  shall  find  it.' 


A  SECRET  RENDEZVOUS 

'And  the  first  day  of  tinleavened  bread,  when  they  killed  the  passover,  His  dis- 
ciples said  unto  Him,  Where  wilt  Thou  that  we  go  and  prepare  that  Thou  mayest 
eat  the  passover  ?  13.  And  He  sendeth  forth  two  of  His  disciples,  and  saith  unto 
them,  Go  ye  into  the  city,  and  there  shall  meet  you  a  man  bearing  a  pitcher  of 
water :  follow  him.  14.  And  wheresoever  he  shall  go  in,  say  ye  to  the  goodman  of 
the  house.  The  Master  saith,  Where  is  the  guestchamber,  where  I  shall  eat  the 
passover  with  My  disciples  ?  15.  And  he  will  show  you  a  large  upper  room  furnished 
and  prepared :  there  make  ready  for  us.  16.  And  His  disciples  went  forth,  and 
came  into  the  city,  and  found  as  Hehad.said  unto  them :  and  they  made  ready  the 
passover.'— Make  xir.  12-16. 

This  is  one  of  the  obscurer  and  less  noticed  incidents, 
but  perhaps  it  contains  more  valuable  teaching  than 
appears  at  first  sight. 

The  first  question  is — Miracle  or  Plan  ?  Does  the  inci- 
dent mean  supernatural  knowledge  or  a  preconcerted 
token,  like  the  provision  of  the  ass  at  the  entry  into 
Jerusalem?  I  think  that  there  is  nothing  decisive 
either  way  in  the  narrative.  Perhaps  the  balance  of 
probability  lies  in  favour  of  the  latter  theory.  A  diffi- 
culty in  its  way  is  that  no  communication  seems  to 
pass  between  the  two  disciples  and  the  man  by  which 
he  could  know  them  to  be  the  persons  whom  he  was  to 
precede  to  the  house.  There  are  advantages  in  either 
tj  eory  which  the  other  loses;  but,  on  the  whole,  I  in- 
<  line  to  believe  in  a  preconcerted  signal.  If  we  lose  the 
supernatural,  we  gain  a  suggestion  of  prudence  and 
human  adaptation  of  means  to  ends  which  makes  the 
story  even  more  startlingly  real  to  us. 

But  whichever  theory  we  adopt,  the  main  points 
and  lessons  of  the  narrative  remain  the  same. 

I.  The  remarkable  thing  in  the  story  is  the  picture  it 

171 


172  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xiv. 

gives  us  of  Christ  as  elaborately  adopting  precautions 
to  conceal  the  place. 

They  are  at  Bethany.  The  disciples  ask  where  the 
passover  is  to  be  eaten.  The  easy  answer  would  have 
been  to  tell  the  name  of  the  man  and  his  house.  That 
is  not  given.  The  deliberate  round-aboutness  of  the 
answer  remains  the  same  whether  miracle  or  plan.  The 
two  go  away,  and  the  others  know  nothing  of  the  place. 
Probably  the  messengers  did  not  come  back,  but  in  the 
evening  Jesus  and  the  ten  go  straight  to  the  house 
which  only  He  knew. 

All  this  secrecy  is  in  strong  contrast  with  His  usual 
frank  and  open  appearances. 

What  is  the  reason?  To  baffle  the  traitor  by  pre- 
venting him  from  acquiring  previous  knowledge  of 
the  place.  He  was  watching  for  some  quiet  hour  in 
Jerusalem  to  take  Jesus.  So  Christ  does  not  eat  the 
passover  at  the  house  of  any  well-known  disciple  who 
had  a  house  in  Jerusalem,  but  goes  to  some  man 
unknown  to  the  Apostolic  circle,  and  takes  steps  to 
prevent  the  place  being  known  beforehand. 

All  this  looks  like  the  ordinary  precautions  which  a 
man  who  knew  of  the  plots  against  him  would  take, 
and  might  mean  simply  a  wish  to  save  his  life.  But  is 
that  the  whole  explanation?  Why  did  He  wish  to 
baffle  the  traitor  ? 

(a)  Because  of  His  desire  to  eat  the  passover  with  the 
disciples.    His  loving  sympathy. 

(6)  Because  of  His  desire  to  found  the  new  rite  of  His 
kingdom. 

(c)  Because  of  His  desire  to  bring  His  death  into 
immediate  connection  with  the  Paschal  sacrifice.  There 
was  no  reason  of  a  selfish  kind,  no  shrinking  from 
death  itself. 


vs.  12-16]    A  SECRET  RENDEZVOUS         173 

The  f^ct  that  such  precautions  only  meet  us  here, 
and  that  they  stand  in  strongest  contrast  with  the  rest 
of  His  conduct,  emphasises  the  purely  voluntary  nature 
of  His  death :  how  He  chose  to  be  betrayed,  taken,  and 
to  die.  They  suggest  the  same  thought  as  do  the 
staggering  back  of  His  would-be  captors  in  Geth- 
semane,  at  His  majestic  word,  •  I  am  He.  .  .  .  Let 
these  go  their  way.'  The  narrative  sets  Him  forth  as 
the  Lord  of  all  circumstances,  as  free,  and  arranging 
all  events. 

Judas,  the  priests,  Pilate,  the  soldiers,  were  swept  by 
a  power  which  they  did  not  know  to  deeds  which  they 
did  not  understand.  The  Lord  of  all  gives  Himself 
up  in  royal  freedom  to  the  death  to  which  nothing 
dragged  Him  but  His  own  love. 

Such  seem  to  be  the  lessons  of  this  narrative  in  so 
far  as  it  bears  on  our  Lord's  own  thoughts  and  feelings. 

II.  We  note  also  the  authoritative  claim  which  He 
makes. 

One  reading  is  *  my  guest-chamber,'  and  that  makes 
His  claim  even  more  emphatic;  but  apart  from  that, 
the  language  is  strong  in  its  expression  of  a  right  to 
this  unknown  man's  '  upper  room.'  Mark  the  singular 
blending  here,  as  in  all  His  earthly  life,  of  poverty  and 
dignity — the  lowliness  of  being  obliged  to  a  mian  for  a 
room ;  the  royal  style, '  The  Master  saith.' 

So  even  now  there  is  the  blending  of  the  wonderful 
fact  that  He  puts  Himself  in  the  position  of  needing 
anything  from  us,  with  the  absolute  authority  which 
He  claims  over  us  and  ours. 

III.  The  answer  and  blessedness  of  the  unknown 
disciple. 

(a)  Jesus  knows  disciples  whom  the  other  disciples 
know  not. 


174  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xiv. 

This  man  was  one  of  the  'secret'  disciples.  There 
is  no  excuse  for  shrinking  from  confession  of  His 
name ;  but  it  is  blessed  to  believe  that  His  eye  sees 
many  a  'hidden  one.'  He  recognises  their  faith,  and 
gives  them  work  to  do.  Add  the  striking  thought  that 
though  this  man's  name  is  unrecorded  by  the  Evan- 
gelist, it  is  known  to  Christ,  was  written  in  His  heart, 
and,  to  use  the  prophetic  image,  /was  graven  on  the 
palms  of  His  hands.' 

(6)  The  true  blessedness  is  to  be  ready  for  whatever 
calls  He  may  make  on  us.  These  may  sometimes  be 
sudden  and  unlooked  for.  But  the  preparation  for 
obeying  the  most  sudden  or  exacting  summons  of  His 
is  to  have  our  hearts  in  fellowship  with  Him. 

(c)  The  blessedness  of  His  coming  into  our  hearts, 
and  accepting  our  service. 

How  honoured  that  man  felt  then  !  how  much  more 
so  as  years  went  on  !  how  most  of  all  now ! 

Our  greatest  blessedness  that  He  does  come  into  the 
narrow  room  of  our  hearts :  *  If  any  man  open  the 
door,  I  will  sup  with  him.' 


THE  NEW  PASSOVER 

'  And  the  first  day  of  unleavened  bread,  when  they  killed  the'  Passover,  His 
disciples  said  unto  Him,  Where  wilt  Thou  that  we  go  and  prepare  that  Thou 
mayest  eat  the  Passover?  13.  And  He  sendeth  forth  two  of  His  disciples,  and 
saith  unto  them,  Go  ye  into  the  city,  and  there  shall  meet  you  a  man  bearing  a 
pitcher  of  water :  follow  him.  14,  And  wheresoever  he  shall  go  in,  say  ye  to  the 
goodman  of  the  house.  The  Master  saith,  Where  is  the  guestchamber,  where  I 
shall  eat  the  Passover  with  My  disciples?  15.  And  he  will  shew  you  a  large  upper 
room  furnished  and  prepared :  there  make  ready  for  us.  16.  And  His  disciples 
went  forth,  and  came  into  the  city,  and  found  as  He  had  said  unto  them :  and  they 
made  ready  the  Passover.  17.  And  in  the  evening  He  cometh  with  the  twelve. 
18.  And  as  they  sat  and  did  eat,  Jesus  said.  Verily  I  say  unto  you.  One  of  you 
which  eateth  with  Me  shall  betray  Me.  19.  And  they  began  to  be  sorrowful,  and 
to  say  unto  Him  one  by  one,  Is  it  I?  and  another  said,  Is  it  I  ?  20.  And  He  answered 
and  said  unto  them.  It  is  one  of  the  twelve,  that  dippeth  with  Me  in  the  dish. 
21.  The  Son  of  Man  indeed  goeth,  as  it  is  written  of  Him  :  but  woe  to  that  man  by 
whom  the  Son  of  Man  is  betrayed !  good  were  it  for  that  man  if  he  had  never 
been  born.  22.  And  as  they  did  eat,  Jesus  took  bread,  and  blessed,  and  brake  it, 
and  gave  to  them,  and  said,  Take,  eat:  this  is  My  body.  23.  And  He  took  the  cup, 
and  when  He  had  given  thanks.  He  gave  it  to  them :  and  they  all  drank  of  it. 
24.  And  He  said  unto  them,  This  is  My  blood  of  the  new  testament,  which  is  shed 
for  many,  25.  Verily  I  say  unto  you,  I  will  drink  no  more  of  the  fruit  of  the  vine, 
until  that  day  that  I  drink  it  new  in  the  kingdom  of  God.  26.  And  when  they  had 
sung  an  hymn,  they  went  out  into  the  mount  of  Olives.'— Mark  xiv.  12-26. 

This  passage  falls  into  three  sections — the  secret  pre- 
paration for  the  Passover  (verses  12-17),  the  sad 
announcement  of  the  betrayer  (verses  18-21),  and  the 
institution  of  the  Lord's  Supper  (verses  22-26).  It  may 
be  interesting  to  notice  that  in  the  two  former  of  these 
Mark's  account  approximates  to  Luke's,  while  in  the 
third  he  is  nearer  Matthew's.  A  comparison  of  the 
three  accounts,  noting  the  slight,  but  often  significant, 
variations,  should  be  made.  Nothing  in  the  Gospels  is 
trivial.    '  The  dust  of  that  land  is  gold.' 

I.  The  secret  preparation  for  the  Passover.  The 
three  Evangelists  all  give  the  disciples'  question,  but 
only  Luke  tells  us  that  it  was  in  answer  to  our  Lord's 
command  to  Peter  and  John  to  go  and  prepare  the 
Passover.  They  very  naturally  said  *  Where  ? '  as  they 
were  all  strangers  in  Jerusalem.  Matthew  may  not 
have  known  of  our  Lord's  initiative ;  but  if  Mark  were, 

176 


176  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xiv. 

as  he  is,  with  apparent  correctness,  said  to  have  been, 
Peter's  mouthpiece  in  his  Gospel,  the  reticence  as  to 
the  prominence  of  that  Apostle  is  natural,  and  explains 
the  omission  of  all  but  the  bare  fact  of  the  despatch  of 
the  two.  The  curiously  roundabout  way  in  which  they 
are  directed  to  the  *  upper  room '  is  only  explicable  on 
the  supposition  that  it  was  intended  to  keep  them  in 
the  dark  till  the  last  moment,  so  that  no  hint  might 
leak  from  them  to  Judas.  Whether  the  token  of  the 
man  with  the  waterpot  was  a  preconcerted  signal  or 
an  instance  of  our  Lord's  supernatural  knowledge  and 
sovereign  sway,  his  employment  as  a  silent  and  pro- 
bably unconscious  guide  testifies  to  Christ's  wish  for 
that  last  hour  to  be  undisturbed.  A  man  carrying  a 
water-pot,  which  was  woman's  special  task,  would  be 
a  conspicuous  figure  even  in  the  festival  crowds.  The 
message  to  the  householder  implies  that  he  recognised 
•  the  Master '  as  his  Master,  and  was  ready  to  give  up 
at  His  requisition  even  the  chamber  which  he  had  pre- 
pared for  his  own  family  celebration  of  the  feast. 

Thus  instructed,  the  two  trusted  Apostles  left 
Bethany,  early  in  the  day,  without  a  clue  of  their 
destination  reaching  Judas's  hungry  watchfulness. 
Evidently  they  did  not  return,  and  in  the  evening 
Jesus  led  the  others  straight  to  the  place.  Mark  says 
that  He  came  *  with  the  twelve ' ;  but  he  does  not  mean 
thereby  to  specify  the  number,  but  to  define  the  class, 
of  His  attendants. 

Each  figure  in  this  preparatory  scene  yields  important 
lessons.  Our  Lord's  earnest  desire  to  secure  that  still 
hour  before  pushing  out  into  the  storm  speaks  patheti- 
cally of  His  felt  need  of  companionship  and  strengthen- 
ing, as  well  as  of  His  self -forgetting  purpose  to  help  His 
handful  of  bewildered  followers  and  His  human  longing 


vs.  12-26]       THE  NEW  PASSOVER  177 

to  live  in  faithful  memories.  His  careful  arrangements 
bring  vividly  into  sight  the  limitations  of  His  manhood, 
in  that  He,  'by  whom  all  things  consist,'  had  to  contrive 
and  plan  in  order  to  baffle  for  a  moment  His  pursuers. 
And,  side  by  side  with  the  lowliness,  as  ever,  is  the 
majesty ;  for  while  He  stoops  to  arrange.  He  sees  with 
superhuman  certitude  what  will  happen,  moves  un- 
conscious feet  with  secret  and  sovereign  sway,  and  in 
royal  tones  claims  possession  of  His  servant's  posses- 
sions. 

The  two  messengers,  sent  out  with  instructions  which 
would  only  guide  them  half-way  to  their  destination, 
and  obliged,  if  they  were  to  move  at  all,  to  trust 
absolutely  to  His  knowledge,  present  specimens  of  the 
obedience  still  required.  He  sends  us  out  still  on  a 
road  full  of  sharp  turnings  round  which  we  cannot  see. 
We  get  light  enough  for  the  first  stage ;  and  when  it  is 
traversed,  the  second  will  be  plainer. 

The  man  with  the  water-pot  reminds  us  how  little  we 
may  be  aware  of  the  Hand  which  guides  us,  or  of  our 
uses  in  His  plans.  '  I  girded  thee,  though  thou  hast 
not  known  Me,' — how  little  the  poor  water-bearer  knew 
who  were  following,  or  dreamed  that  he  and  his  load 
would  be  remembered  for  ever  ! 

The  householder  responded  at  once,  and  gladly,  to 
the  authoritative  message,  which  does  not  ask  a  favour, 
but  demands  a  right.  Probably  he  had  intended  to 
celebrate  the  Passover  with  his  own  family,  in  the  large 
chamber  on  the  roof,  with  the  cool  evening  air  about  it, 
and  the  moonlight  sleeping  around.  But  he  gladly  gives 
it  up.  Are  we  as  ready  to  surrender  our  cherished 
possessions  for  His  use  ? 

II.  The  sad  announcement  of  the  traitor  (verses  18-21). 
As  the  Revised  Version  indicates  more  clearly  than 
VOL.  n.  M 


178  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [oh.xiv. 

the  Authorised,  the  purport  of  the  announcement  was 
not  merely  that  the  betrayer  was  an  Apostle,  but  that 
he  was  to  be  known  by  his  dipping  his  hand  into  the 
common  dish  at  the  same  moment  as  our  Lord.  The 
prophetic  psalm  would  have  been  abundantly  fulfilled 
though  Judas'g  fingers  had  never  touched  Christ's ;  but 
the  minute  accomplishment  should  teach  us  that  Jewish 
prophecy  was  the  voice  of  divine  foreknowledge,  and 
embraced  small  details  as  well  as  large  tendencies. 
Many  hands  dipped  with  Christ's,  and  so  the  sign  was 
not  unmistakably  indicative,  and  hence  was  privately 
supplemented,  as  John  tells  us,  by  the  giving  of  'the  sop.' 
The  uncertainty  as  to  the  indication  given  by  the  token 
is  reflected  by  the  reiterated  questions  of  the  Apostles, 
which,  in  the  Greek,  are  cast  in  a  form  that  antici- 
pates a  negative  answer :  *  Surely  not  I  ? '  Mark  omits 
the  audacious  hypocrisy  of  Judas's  question  in  the  same 
form,  and  Christ's  curt,  sad  answer  which  Matthew 
gives.  His  brief  and  vivid  sketch  is  meant  to  fix  atten- 
tion on  the  unanimous  shuddering  horror  of  these 
faithful  hearts  at  the  thought  that  they  could  be  thus 
guilty — a  horror  which  was  not  the  child  of  presump- 
tuous self-confidence,  but  of  hearty,  honest  love.  They 
thought  it  impossible,  as  they  felt  the  throbbing  of 
their  own  hearts — and  yet — and  yet — might  it  not  be  ? 
As  they  probed  their  hearts  deeper,  they  became  dimly 
aware  of  dark  gulfs  of  possible  unfaithfulness  half 
visible  there,  and  so  betook  themselves  to  their  Master, 
and  strengthened  their  loyalty  by  the  question,  which 
breathed  at  once  detestation  of  the  treason  and  humble 
distrust  of  themselves.  It  is  well  to  feel  and  speak  the 
strong  recoil  from  sin  of  a  heart  loyal  to  Jesus.  It  is 
better  to  recognise  the  sleeping  snakes,  the  possibilities 
of  evil  in  ourselves,  and  to  take  to  Christ  our  ignorance 


vs.  12-26]       THE  NEW  PASSOVER  179 

and  self -distrust.  It  is  wiser  to  cry  'Is  it  I?'  than  to 
boast,  *  Although  all  shall  be  offended,  yet  will  not  L' 
•  Hold  Thou  me  up,  and  I  shall  be  safe.' 

Our  Lord  answers  the  questions  by  a  still  more  em- 
phatic repetition  of  the  distinctive  mark,  and  then,  in 
verse  21,  speaks  deep  words  of  mingled  pathos,  dignity, 
and  submission.  The  voluntariness  of  His  death,  and 
its  uniqueness  as  His  own  act  of  return  to  His  eternal 
home,  are  contained  in  that  majestic  '  goeth,'  which 
asserts  the  impotence  of  the  betrayer  and  his  em- 
ployers, without  the  Lord's  own  consent.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  necessity  to  which  He  willingly  bowed  is  set 
forth  in  that  *  as  it  is  written  of  Him.'  And  what  sad- 
ness and  lofty  consciousness  of  His  own  sacred  per- 
sonality and  judicial  authority  are  blended  in  the 
awful  sentence  on  the  traitor!  What  was  He  that 
treachery  to  Him  should  be  a  crime  so  transcendent  ? 
What  right  had  He  thus  calmly  to  pronounce  con- 
demnation? Did  He  see  into  the  future?  Is  it  the 
voice  of  a  Divine  Judge,  or  of  a  man  judging  in  his  own 
cause,  which  speaks  this  passionless  sentence  ?  Surely 
none  of  His  sayings  are  more  fully  charged  with  His 
claims  to  pre-existence,  divinity,  and  judicial  authority, 
than  this  which  He  spoke  at  the  very  moment  when 
the  traitor's  plot  was  on  the  verge  of  success. 

III.  The  institution  of  the  Lord's  Supper  (verses 
22-26).  Mark's  account  is  the  briefest  of  the  three,  and 
his  version  of  Christ's  words  the  most  compressed.  It 
omits  the  affecting  *  Do  this  for  remembering  Me,'  which 
is  pre-supposed  by  the  very  act  of  instituting  the  ordi- 
nance, since  it  is  nothing  if  not  memorial ;  and  it  makes 
prominent  two  things — the  significance  of  the  elements, 
and  the  command  to  partake  of  them.  To  these  must  be 
added  Christ's  attitude  in  •  blessing '  the  bread  and  cup, 


180  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xiv. 

and  His  distribution  of  them  among  the  disciples.  The 
Passover  was  to  Israel  the  commemoration  of  their 
redemption  from  captivity  and  their  birth  as  a  nation. 
Jesus  puts  aside  this  divinely  appointed  and  venerable 
festival  to  set  in  its  stead  the  remembrance  of  Himself. 
That  night,  *  to  be  much  remembered  of  the  children  of 
Israel,'  is  to  be  forgotten,  and  come  no  more  into  the 
number  of  the  months;  and  its  empty  place  is  to  be 
filled  by  the  memory  of  the  hours  then  passing.  Surely 
His  act  was  either  arrogance  or  the  calm  consciousness 
of  the  unique  significance  and  power  of  His  death. 
Think  of  any  mere  teacher  or  prophet  doing  the  like ! 
The  world  would  meet  the  preposterous  claim  implied 
with  deserved  and  inextinguishable  laughter.  Why 
does  it  not  do  so  with  Christ's  act  ? 

Christ's  view  of  His  death  is  written  unmistakably  on 
the  Lord's  Supper.  It  is  not  merely  that  He  wishes  it 
rather  than  His  life,  His  miracles,  or  words,  to  be  kept 
in  thankful  remembrance,  but  that  He  desires  one 
aspect  of  it  to  be  held  high  and  clear  above  all  others. 
He  is  the  true  '  Passover  Lamb,'  whose  shed  and 
sprinkled  blood  establishes  new  bonds  of  amity  and  new 
relations,  with  tender  and  wonderful  reciprocal  obliga- 
tions, between  God  and  the  'many'  who  truly  partake 
of  that  sacrifice.  The  key-words  of  Judaism — '  sacrifice,' 
'covenant,'  'sprinkling  with  blood' — are  taken  over  into 
Christianity,  and  the  ideas  they  represent  are  set  in 
its  centre,  to  be  cherished  as  its  life.  The  Lord's 
Supper  is  the  conclusive  answer  to  the  allegation  that 
Christ  did  not  teach  the  sacrificial  character  and  aton- 
ing power  of  His  death.  What,  then,  did  He  teach 
when  He  said,  '  This  is  My  blood  of  the  covenant,  which 
is  shed  for  many '  ? 

The  Passover  was  a  family  festival,  and  that  char- 


vs.  12-26]       THE  NEW  PASSOVER  181 

acteristic  passes  over  to  the  Lord's  Supper.  Christ  is 
not  only  the  food  on  which  we  feed,  but  the  Head  of 
the  family  and  distributor  of  the  banquet.  He  is  the 
feast  and  the  Governor  of  the  feast,  and  all  who  sit  at 
that  table  are  *  brethren.'  One  life  is  in  them  all,  and 
they  are  one  as  partakers  of  One. 

The  Lord's  Supper  is  a  visible  symbol  of  the  Christian 
life,  which  should  not  only  be  all  lived  in  remembrance 
of  Him,  but  consists  in  partaking  by  faith  of  His  life, 
and  incorporating  it  in  ours,  until  we  come  to  the 
measure  of  perfect  men,  which,  in  one  aspect,  we  reach 
when  we  can  say,  *  I  live ;  yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth 
in  me.' 

There  is  a  prophetic  element,  as  well  as  a  com- 
memorative and  symbolic,  in  the  Lord's  Supper,  which 
is  prominent  in  Christ's  closing  words.  He  does  not 
partake  of  the  symbols  which  He  gives ;  but  there 
comes  a  time,  in  that  perfected  form  of  the  kingdom, 
when  perfect  love  shall  make  all  the  citizens  perfectly 
conformed  to  the  perfect  will  of  God.  Then,  whatso- 
ever associations  of  joy,  of  invigoration,  of  festal 
fellowship,  clustered  round  the  wine-cup  here,  shall 
be  heightened,  purified,  and  perpetuated  in  the  calm 
raptures  of  the  heavenly  feast,  in  which  He  will  be 
Partaker,  as  well  as  Giver  and  Food.  'Thou  shalt 
make  them  drink  of  the  river  of  Thy  pleasures.'  The 
King's  lips  will  touch  the  golden  cup  filled  with  un- 
f oaming  wine,  ere  He  commends  it  to  His  guests.  And 
from  that  feast  they  will  *go  no  more  out,'  neither 
shall  the  triumphant  music  of  its  great  'hymn'  be 
followed  by  any  Olivet  or  Gethsemane,  or  any  denial, 
or  any  Calvary;  but  there  shall  be  'no  more  sorrow, 
nor  sin,  nor  death ' ;  for  '  the  former  things  are  passed 
away,'  and  He  has  made  'all  things  new.' 


•IS  IT  I?* 

•Is  it  I ?  '—Mark  xiv.  la 

The  scene  shows  that  Judas  had  not  as  yet  drawn  any 
suspicion  on  himself. 

Here  the  Apostles  seem  to  be  higher  than  their 
ordinary  stature ;  for  they  do  not  take  to  questioning 
one  another,  or  even  to  protest,  *  No  I '  but  to  question- 
ing Christ. 

I.  The  solemn  prophecy. 

It  seems  strange  at  first  sight  that  our  Lord  should 
have  introduced  such  thoughts  then,  disturbing  the 
sweet  repose  of  that  hallowed  hour.  But  the  terrible 
fact  of  the  betrayal  was  naturally  suggested  by  the 
emblems  of  His  death,  and  still  more  by  the  very  con- 
fiding familiarity  of  that  hour.  His  household  were 
gathered  around  Him,  and  the  more  close  and  con- 
fidential the  intercourse,  the  bitterer  that  thought  to 
Him,  that  one  of  the  little  band  was  soon  to  play  the 
traitor.  It  is  the  cry  of  His  wounded  love,  the  wail  of 
His  unrequited  affection,  and,  so  regarded,  is  infinitely 
touching.  It  is  an  instance  of  that  sad  insight  into 
man's  heart  which  in  His  divinity  He  possessed.  What 
a  fountain  of  sorrow  for  His  manhood  was  that  know- 
ledge !  how  it  increases  the  pathos  of  His  tenderness ! 
Not  only  did  He  read  hearts  as  they  thought  and  felt  in 
the  present,  but  He  read  their  future  with  more  than  a 
prophet's  insight.  He  saw  how  many  buds  of  promise 
would  shrivel,  how  many  would  'go  away  and  walk 
no  more  with  Him.' 

That  solemn  prophecy  may  well  be  pondered  by  all 
Christian  assemblies,  and  specially  when  gathered  for 

182 


V.19]  *  IS  IT  I?'  183 

the  observance  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  Perhaps  never 
since  that  first  institution  has  a  community  met  to 
celebrate  it  without  Him  who  'walks  amid  the  candle- 
sticks,' with  eyes  as  a  flame  of  fire  marking  a  Judas 
among  the  disciples.  There  is,  I  think,  no  doubt  that 
Judas  partook  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  But  be  that  as  it 
may,  he  was  among  the  number,  and  our  Lord  knew 
him  to  be  *  the  traitor.* 

In  its  essence  Judas's  sin  can  be  repeated  still,  and  the 
thought  of  that  possibility  may  well  mingle  with  the 
grateful  and  adoring  contemplations  suitable  to  the 
act  of  partaking  of  the  Lord's  Supper.  In  the  hour  of 
holiest  Christian  emotion  the  thought  that  I  may 
betray  the  Lord  who  has  died  for  me  will  be  especially 
hateful,  and  to  remember  the  possibility  then  will  do 
much  to  prevent  its  ever  becoming  a  reality. 

II.  The  self -distrustful  question,  *  Is  it  I  ? ' 

It  suggests  that  the  possibilities  of  the  darkest  sin 
are  in  each  of  us,  and  especially,  that  the  sin  of  treason 
towards  Christ  is  in  each  of  us. 

Think  generally  of  the  awful  possibilities  of  sin  in 
every  soul. 

All  sin  has  one  root,  so  it  is  capable  of  passing  from 
one  form  to  another  as  light,  heat,  and  motion  do,  or 
like  certain  diseases  that  are  Protean  in  their  forms. 
One  sin  is  apt  to  draw  others  after  it.  '  None  shall  want 
her  mate.'  Wild  beasts  of  •  the  desert '  meet  with  wild 
beasts  of  *  the  islands.'  Sins  are  gregarious,  as  it  were ; 
they  '  hunt  in  couples.'  •  Then  goeth  he,  and  taketh 
with  him  seven  other  spirits  more  wicked  than  himself.' 

The  roots  of  all  sin  are  in  each.  Men  may  think  that 
they  are  protected  from  certain  forms  of  sin  by  tem- 
perament, but  identity  of  nature  is  deeper  than  varieties 
of  temperament.    The  greatest  sins  are  committed  by 


184  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [oh.  xiv. 

yielding  to  very  common  motives.  Love  of  money  is 
not  a  rare  feeling,  but  it  led  Judas  to  betray  Jesus. 
Anger  is  thought  to  be  scarcely  a  sin  at  all,  but  it  often 
moves  an  arm  to  murder. 

Temptations  to  each  sin  are  round  us  all.  "We  walk 
in  a  tainted  atmosphere. 

There  is  progress  in  evil.  No  man  reaches  the  ex- 
treme of  depravity  at  a  bound.  Judas's  treachery  was 
of  slow  growth. 

So  still  there  is  the  constant  operation  and  pressure 
of  forces  and  tendencies  drawing  us  away  from  Jesus 
Christ.  We,  every  one  of  us,  know  that,  if  we  allowed 
our  nature  to  have  its  way,  we  should  leave  Him  and 
♦make  shipwreck  of  faith  and  of  a  good  conscience.' 
The  forms  in  which  we  might  do  it  might  vary,  but  do 
it  we  should.  We  are  like  a  man  desperately  clutching 
some  rocky  projection  on  the  face  of  a  precipice,  who 
knows  that  if  once  he  lets  go,  he  will  be  dashed  to 
pieces.  '  There  goes  John  Bradford,  but  for  the  grace 
of  God ! '  But  for  this  same  restraining  grace,  to  what 
depths  might  we  not  sink  ?  So,  in  all  Christian  hearts 
there  should  be  profound  consciousness  of  their  own 
weakness.  The  man  '  who  fears  no  fall '  is  sure  to  have 
one.  It  is  perilous  to  march  through  an  enemy's 
country  in  loose  order,  without  scouts  and  rearguard. 
Rigorous  control  is  ever  necessary.  Brotherly  judg- 
ment, too,  of  others  should  result  from  our  conscious- 
ness of  weakness.  Examples  of  others  falling  are  not 
to  make  us  say  cynically,  *  We  are  all  alike,'  but  to  set 
us  to  think  humbly  of  ourselves,  and  to  supplicate 
divine  keeping,  *  Lord,  save  me,  or  I  perish  1  * 

III.  The  safety  of  the  self -distrustful. 

When  the  consciousness  of  possible  falling  is  brought 
home  to  us,  we  shall  carry,  if  we  are  wise,  all  our  doubts 


V.19]  *IS  IT  I?'  185 

as  to  ourselves  to  Jesus.  There  is  safety  in  asking 
Him,  *  Is  it  I  ?'  To  bare  our  inmost  selves  before  Him, 
and  not  to  shrink,  even  if  that  piercing  gaze  lights  on 
hidden  meannesses  and  incipient  treachery,  may  be 
painful,  but  is  healing.  He  will  keep  us  from  yielding 
to  the  temptation  of  which  we  are  aware,  and  which 
we  tell  frankly  to  Him.  The  lowly  sense  of  our  own 
liability  to  fall,  if  it  drives  us  closer  to  Him,  will  make 
it  certain  that  we  shall  not  fall. 

While  the  other  disciples  asked  *  Is  it  I  ? '  John  asked 
•Who  is  it?'  The  disciple  who  leaned  on  Christ's 
bosom  was  bathed  in  such  a  consciousness  of  Christ's 
love  that  treason  against  it  was  impossible.  He,  alone 
of  the  Evangelists,  records  his  question,  and  he  tells  us 
that  he  put  it,  'leaning  back  as  he  was,  on  Jesus's  breast.' 
For  the  purpose  of  whispering  his  interrogation,  he 
changed  his  attitude  for  a  moment  so  as  to  press  still 
closer  to  Jesus.  How  could  one  who  was  thus  nestling 
nearer  to  that  heart  be  the  betrayer  ?  The  conscious- 
ness of  Christ's  love,  accompanied  with  the  effort  to 
draw  closer  to  Him,  is  our  surest  defence  against  every 
temptation  to  faithlessness  or  betrayal  of  Him. 

Any  other  fancied  ground  of  security  is  deceptive, 
and  will  sooner  or  later  crumble  beneath  our  deceived 
feet.  On  this  very  occasion,  Peter  built  a  towering 
fabric  of  profession  of  unalterable  fidelity  on  such 
shifting  ground,  and  saw  it  collapse  into  ruin  in  a  few 
hours.    Let  us  profit  by  the  lesson ! 

That  wholesome  consciousness  of  our  weakness  need 
not  shade  with  sadness  the  hours  of  communion,  but  it 
may  well  help  us  to  turn  them  to  their  highest  use  in 
making  them  occasions  for  lowlier  self-distrust  and 
closer  cleaving  to  Him.  If  we  thus  use  our  sense  of 
weakness,  the  sweet  security  will  enter  our  souls  that 


186  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xiv. 

belongs  to  those  who  have  trusted  in  the  great  pro- 
mise :  *  He  shall  not  fall,  for  God  is  able  to  make  him 
stand.'  The  blessed  ones  who  are  kept  from  falling  and 
•presented  faultless  before  the  presence  of  His  glory,' 
will  hear  with  wonder  the  voice  of  the  Judge  ascribing 
to  them  deeds  of  service  to  Him  of  which  they  had  not 
been  conscious,  and  will  have  to  ask  once  more  the  old 
question,  but  with  a  new  meaning:  '  Lord,  is  it  I  ?  when 
saw  we  Thee  an  hungered,  and  fed  Thee  ?  * 


•STRONG  CRYING  AND  TEARS' 

'  And  they  came  to  a  place  which  was  named  Gethsemane  :  and  He  salth  to  His 
disciples,  Sit  ye  here,  while  I  shall  pray.  33.  And  He  taketh  with  Him  Peter  and 
James  and  John,  and  began  to  be  sore  amazed,  and  to  be  very  heavy ;  34.  And 
eaith  unto  them,  My  soul  is  exceeding  sorrowful  unto  death :  tarry  ye  here,  and 
watch.  35.  And  He  went  forward  a  Uttle,  and  fell  on  the  ground,  and  prayed 
that,  if  it  were  possible,  the  hour  might  pass  from  Him.  36.  And  He  said,  Abba, 
Father,  all  things  are  possible  unto  Thee ;  take  away  this  cup  from  Me :  neverthe- 
less not  what  I  will,  but  what  Thou  wilt.  37.  And  He  oometh,  and  flndeth  them 
sleeping,  and  saith  unto  Peter,  Simon,  sleepest  thou?  couldest  not  thou  watch  one 
hour  ?  38.  Watch  ye  and  pray,  lest  ye  enter  into  temptation.  The  spirit  truly  is 
ready,  but  the  flesh  is  weak.  39.  And  again  He  went  away,  and  prayed,  and 
spake  the  same  words.  40.  And  when  He  returned.  He  found  them  asleep  again, 
(for  their  eyes  were  heavy,)  neither  wist  they  what  to  answer  Him.  41.  And  Ho 
Cometh  the  third  time,  and  saith  unto  them.  Sleep  on  now,  and  take  your  rest, 
it  is  enough,  the  hour  is  come;  behold,  the  Son  of  Man  is  betrayed  into  the 
hands  of  sinners.  42.  Rise  up,  let  us  go ;  lo.  he  that  betrayeth  Me  is  at  hand.' 
—Mamk  xIt.  32-42. 

The  three  who  saw  Christ's  agony  in  Gethsemane  were 
SO  little  affected  that  they  slept.  We  have  to  beware 
of  being  so  little  affected  that  we  speculate  and  seek 
to  analyse  rather  than  to  bow  adoringly  before  that 
mysterious  and  heart -subduing  sight.  Let  us  re- 
member that  the  place  is  *  holy  ground.'  It  was  meant 
that  we  should  look  on  the  Christ  who  prayed  •  with 
strong  crying  and  tears,'  else  the  three  sleepers  would 
not  have  accompanied  Him  so  far ;  but  it  was  meant 
that  our  gaze  should  be  reverent  and  from  a  distance, 
else  they  would  have  gone  with  Him  into  the  shadow 
of  the  olives. 

•  Gethsemane '  means  •  an  oil-press.'  It  was  an  en- 
closed piece  of  ground,  according  to  Matthew  and 
Mark ;  a  garden,  according  to  John.  Jesus,  by  some 
means,  had  access  to  it,  and  had  'oft-times  resorted 
thither  with  His  disciples.'  To  this  familiar  spot,  with 
its  many  happy  associations,  Jesus  led  the  disciples, 
who  would  simply  expect  to  pass  the  night  there,  as 
many  Passover  visitors  were  accustomed  to  bivouac  in 

the  open  air. 

m 


188  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xiv. 

The  triumphant  tone  of  spirit  which  animated  His 
assuring  words  to  His  disciples,  *  I  have  overcome  the 
world,'  changed  as  they  passed  through  the  moonlight 
down  to  the  valley,  and  when  they  reached  the  garden 
deep  gloom  lay  upon  Him.  His  agitation  is  patheti- 
cally and  most  naturally  indicated  by  the  conflict  of 
feeling  as  to  companionship.  He  leaves  the  other 
disciples  at  the  entrance,  for  He  would  fain  be  alone  in 
His  prayer.  Then,  a  moment  after,  He  bids  the  three, 
who  had  been  on  the  Mount  of  Transfiguration  and 
with  Him  at  many  other  special  times,  accompany 
Him  into  the  recesses  of  the  garden.  But  again  need 
of  solitude  overcomes  longing  for  companionship,  and 
He  bids  them  stay  where  they  were,  while  He  plunges 
still  further  into  the  shadow.  How  human  it  is !  How 
well  all  of  us,  who  have  been  down  into  the  depths 
of  sorrow,  know  the  drawing  of  these  two  opposite 
longings ! 

Scripture  seldom  undertakes  to  tell  Christ's  emotions. 
Still  seldomer  does  He  speak  of  them.  But  at  this - 
tremendous  hour  the  veil  is  lifted  by  one  corner,  and 
He  Himself  is  fain  to  relieve  His  bursting  heart  by 
pathetic  self-revelation,  which  is  in  fact  an  appeal  to 
the  three  for  sympathy,  as  well  as  an  evidence  of  His 
sharing  the  common  need  of  lightening  the  burdened 
spirit  by  speech.  Mark's  description  of  Christ's  feel- 
ings lays  stress  first  on  their  beginning,  and  then  on 
their  nature  as  being  astonishment  and  anguish.  A 
wave  of  emotion  swept  over  Him,  and  was  in  marked 
contrast  with  His  previous  demeanour. 

The  three  had  never  seen  their  calm  Master  so 
moved.  We  feel  that  such  agitation  is  profoundly 
unlike  the  serenity  of  the  rest  of  His  life,  and  especially 
remarkable   if    contrasted  with  the    tone    of  John's 


vs.  32-42]  STRONG  CRYING  AND  TEARS  189 

account  of  His  discourse  in  the  upper  room ;  and,  if  we 
are  wise,  we  shall  gaze  on  that  picture  drawn  for  us 
by  Mark  with  reverent  gratitude,  and  feel  that  we 
look  at  something  more  sacred  than  human  trembling 
at  the  thought  of  death. 

Our  Lord's  own  infinitely  touching  words  heighten 
the  impression  of  the  Evangelist's  '  My  soul  is  ex- 
ceeding sorrowful,'  or,  as  the  word  literally  means, 
'  ringed  round  with  sorrow.'  A  dark  orb  of  distress  en- 
compassed Him,  and  there  was  nowhere  a  break  in  the 
gloom  which  shut  Him  in.  And  this  is  He  who,  but  an 
hour  before,  had  bequeathed  His  '  joy '  to  His  servants, 
and  had  bidden  them  *  be  of  good  cheer,'  since  He  had 
*  conquered  the  world.' 

Dare  we  ask  what  were  the  elements  of  that  all- 
enveloping  horror  of  great  darkness  ?  Reverently  we 
may.  That  astonishment  and  distress  no  doubt  were 
partly  !iue  to  the  recoil  of  flesh  from  death.  But  if 
that  was  their  sole  cause,  Jesus  has  been  surpassed  in 
heroism,  not  only  by  many  a  martyr  who  drew  his 
strength  from  Him,  but  by  many  a  rude  soldier  and  by 
many,  a  criminal.  No!  The  waters  of  the  baptism 
with  which  He  was  baptized  had  other  sources  than 
that,  though  it  poured  a  tributary  stream  into  them. 

We  shall  not  understand  Gethsemane  at  all,  nor 
will  it  touch  our  hearts  and  wills  as  it  is  meant  to  do, 
unless,  as  we  look,  we  say  in  adoring  wonder,  'The 
Lord  hath  made  to  meet  on  Him  the  iniquity  of  us  all.' 
It  was  the  weight  of  the  world's  sin  which  He  took  on 
Him  by  willing  identification  of  Himself  with  men, 
that  pressed  Him  to  the  ground.  Nothing  else  than 
the  atoning  character  of  Christ's  sufferings  explains 
so  far  as  it  can  be  explained,  the  agony  which  we  are 
permitted  to  behold  afar  off. 


190  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xiv. 

How  nearly  that  agony  was  fatal  is  taught  us  by  His 
own  word  '  unto  death.'  A  little  more,  and  He  would 
have  died.  Can  we  retain  reverence  for  Jesus  as  a 
perfect  and  pattern  man,  in  view  of  His  paroxysm  of 
anguish  in  Gethsemane,  if  we  refuse  to  accept  that 
explanation  ?  Truly  was  the  place  named  •  The  Olive- 
press,'  for  in  it  His  whole  being  was  as  if  in  the  press, 
and  another  turn  of  the  screw  would  have  crushed  Him. 

Darkness  ringed  Him  round,  but  there  was  a  rift  in 
it  right  overhead.  Prayer  was  His  refuge,  as  it  must 
be  ours.  The  soul  that  can  cry,  *  Abba,  Father ! '  does 
not  walk  in  unbroken  night.  His  example  teaches  us 
what  our  own  sorrows  should  also  teach  us — to  be- 
take ourselves  to  prayer  when  the  spirit  is  desolate. 
In  that  wonderful  prayer  we  reverently  note  three 
things:  there  is  unbroken  consciousness  of  the  Father's 
love ;  there  is  the  instinctive  recoil  of  flesh  and  the 
sensitive  nature  from  the  suffering  imposed ;  and  there 
is  the  absolute  submission  of  the  will,  which  silences 
the  remonstrance  of  flesh.  "Whatever  the  weight  laid 
on  Jesus  by  His  bearing  of  the  sins  of  the  world,  it  did 
not  take  from  Him  the  sense  of  sonship.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  that  sense  did  not  take  from  Him  the  con- 
sciousness that  the  world's  sin  lay  upon  Him.  In  like 
manner  His  cry  on  the  Cross  mysteriously  blended  the 
sense  of  communion  with  God  and  of  abandonment  by 
God.  Into  these  depths  we  see  but  a  little  way,  and 
adoration  is  better  than  speculation. 

Jesus  shrank  from  'this  cup,'  in  which  so  many 
bitter  ingredients  besides  death  were  mingled,  such  as 
treachery,  desertion,  mocking,  rejection,  exposure  to 
*  the  contradiction  of  sinners.'  There  was  no  failure  of 
purpose  in  that  recoil,  for  the  cry  for  exemption  was 
immediately  followed  by  complete  submission  to  the 


vs.  32-42]   STRONG  CRYING  AND  TEARS   191 

Father's  will.  No  perturbation  in  the  lower  nature 
ever  caused  His  fixed  resolve  to  waver.  The  needle 
always  pointed  to  the  pole,  however  the  ship  might 
pitch  and  roll.  A  prayer  in  which  *  remove  this  from 
me '  is  followed  by  that  yielding  *  nevertheless '  is 
always  heard.  Christ's  was  heard,  for  calmness  came 
back,  and  His  flesh  was  stilled  and  made  ready  for  the 
sacrifice. 

So  He  could  rejoin  the  three,  in  whose  sympathy 
and  watchfulness  He  had  trusted — and  they  all  were 
asleep !  Surely  that  was  one  ingredient  of  bitterness 
in  His  cup.  We  wonder  at  their  insensibility;  and 
how  they  must  have  wondered  at  it  too,  when  after 
years  taught  them  what  they  had  lost,  and  how  faith- 
less they  had  been!  Think  of  men  who  could  have 
seen  and  heard  that  scene,  which  has  drawn  the  wor- 
shipping regard  of  the  world  ever  since,  missing  it  all 
because  they  fell  asleep !  They  had  kept  awake  long 
enough  to  see  Him  fall  on  the  ground  and  to  hear  His 
prayer,  but,  worn  out  by  a  long  day  of  emotion  and 
sorrow,  they  slept. 

Jesus  was  probably  rapt  in  prayer  for  a  con- 
siderable time,  perhaps  for  a  literal  '  hour.'  He  was 
specially  touched  by  Peter's  failure,  so  sadly  con- 
trasted with  his  confident  professions  in  the  upper 
room;  but  no  word  of  blame  escaped  Him.  Rather 
He  warned  them  of  swift-coming  temptation,  which 
they  could  only  overcome  by  watchfulness  and  prayer. 
It  was  indeed  near,  for  the  soldiers  would  burst  in, 
before  many  minutes  had  passed,  polluting  the  moon- 
light with  their  torches  and  disturbing  the  quiet  night 
with  their  shouts.  What  gracious  allowance  for  their 
weakness  and  loving  recognition  of  the  disciples'  imper- 
fect good  lie  in  His  words,  which  are  at  once  an  excuse 


192  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xiv. 

for  their  fault  and  an  enforcement  of  His  command  to 
watch  and  pray !  *  The  flesh  is  weak,'  and  hinders  the 
willing  spirit  from  doing  what  it  wills.  It  was  an 
apology  for  the  slumber  of  the  three ;  it  is  a  merciful 
statement  of  the  condition  under  which  all  disciple- 
ship  has  to  be  carried  on.  '  He  knoweth  our  frame.' 
Therefore  we  all  need  to  watch  and  pray,  since  only 
by  such  means  can  weak  flesh  be  strengthened  and 
strong  flesh  weakened,  or  the  spirit  preserved  in 
willingness. 

The  words  were  not  spoken  in  reference  to  Himself, 
but  in  a  measure  were  true  of  Him.  His  second  with- 
drawal for  prayer  seems  to  witness  that  the  victory 
won  by  the  first  supplication  was  not  permanent. 
Again  the  anguish  swept  over  His  spirit  in  another 
foaming  breaker,  and  again  He  sought  solitude,  and 
again  He  found  tranquillity — and  again  returned  to  find 
the  disciples  asleep.  *  They  knew  not  what  to  answer 
Him '  in  extenuation  of  their  renewed  dereliction. 

Yet  a  third  time  the  struggle  was  renewed.  And 
after  that,  He  had  no  need  to  return  to  the  seclu- 
sion, where  He  had  fought,  and  now  had  conclusively 
conquered  by  prayer  and  submission.  We  too  may, 
by  the  same  means,  win  partial  victories  over  self, 
which  may  be  interrupted  by  uprisings  of  flesh;  but 
let  us  persevere.  Twice  Jesus'  calm  was  broken  by 
recrudescence  of  horror  and  shrinking ;  the  third 
time  it  came  back,  to  abide  through  all  the  trying 
scenes  of  the  passion,  but  for  that  one  cry  on  the  Cross, 
'  Why  hast  Thou  forsaken  Me  ? '     So  it  may  be  with  us. 

The  last  words  to  the  three  have  given  commentators 
much  trouble.  *  Sleep  on  now,  and  take  your  rest,'  is 
not  so  much  irony  as  '  spoken  with  a  kind  of  permis- 
sive force,  and  in  tones  in  which  merciful  reproach 


vs.  32-42]  STRONG  CRYING  AND  TEARS   lOB 

was  blended  with  calm  resignation.'  So  far  as  He  was 
concerned,  there  was  no  reason  for  their  waking.  But 
they  had  lost  an  opportunity,  never  to  return,  of  help- 
ing Him  in  His  hour  of  deepest  agony.  He  needed 
them  no  more.  And  do  not  we  in  like  manner  often 
lose  the  brightest  opportunities  of  service  by  untimely 
slumber  of  soul,  and  is  not  'the  irrevocable  past' 
saying  to  many  of  us,  *  Sleep  on  now,  since  you  can  no 
more  do  what  you  have  let  slip  from  your  drowsy 
hands'? 

•  It  is  enough '  is  obscure,  but  probably  refers  to  the 
disciples'  sleep,  and  prepares  for  the  transition  to  the 
next  words,  which  summon  them  to  arise,  not  to  help 
Him  by  watching,  but  to  meet  the  traitor.  They  had 
slept  long  enough.  He  sadly  says.  That  which  will 
effectually  end  their  sleepiness  is  at  hand.  How  com- 
pletely our  Lord  had  regained  His  calm  superiority  to 
the  horror  which  had  shaken  Him  is  witnessed  by  that 
majestic  *  Let  us  be  going.'  He  will  go  out  to  meet 
the  traitor,  and,  after  one  flash  of  power,  which  smote 
the  soldiers  to  the  ground,  will  yield  Himself  to  the 
hands  of  sinners. 

The  Man  who  lay  prone  in  anguish  beneath  the 
olive-trees  comes  forth  in  serene  tranquillity,  and 
gives  Himself  up  to  the  death  for  us  all.  His  agony 
was  endured  for  us,  and  needs  for  its  explanation  the 
fact  that  it  was  so.  His  victory  through  prayer  was  for 
us,  that  we  too  might  conquer  by  the  same  weapons. 
His  voluntary  surrender  was  for  us,  that  *by  His 
stripes  we  might  be  healed.'  Surely  we  shall  not  sleep, 
as  did  these  others,  but,  moved  by  His  sorrows  and 
animated  by  His  victory,  watch  and  pray  that  we  may 
share  in  the  virtue  of  His  sufferings  and  imitate  the 
example  of  His  submission. 

VOL.  II.  N 


THE  SLEEPING  APOSTLE 

'Simon,  sleepest  thou?'— Mark  xiv.  37.' 

It  18  a  very  old  Christian  tradition  that  this  Gospel  fa 
in  some  sense  the  Apostle  Peter's.  There  are  not  many 
features  in  the  Gospel  itself  which  can  be  relied  on  as 
confirming  this  idea.  Perhaps  one  such  may  be  found 
in  this  plaintive  remonstrance,  which  is  only  preserved 
for  us  here.  Matthew's  Gospel,  indeed,  tells  us  that 
the  rebuke  was  addressed  to  Peter,  but  blunts  the 
sharp  point  of  it  as  directed  to  him,  by  throwing  it 
into  the  plural,  as  if  spoken  to  all  the  three  slumberers : 
'What,  could  ye  not  watch  with  Me  one  hour?'  To 
Matthew,  the  special  direction  of  the  words  was  un- 
important, but  Peter  could  never  forget  how  the  Master 
had  come  out  from  the  shadow  of  the  olives  to  him 
lying  there  in  the  moonlight,  and  stood  before  him  worn 
with  His  solitary  agony,  and  in  a  voice  yet  tremulous 
from  His  awful  conflict,  had  said  to  him,  so  lately  loud 
in  his  professions  of  fidelity,  'Sleepest  thou?' 
It  was  but  an  hour  or  two  since  he  had  been  saying, 
, vand  meaning,  *  I  will  lay  down  my  life  for  Thy  sake,' 
and  this  was  what  all  that  fervour  had  come  to.  No 
wonder  if  there  is  almost  a  tone  of  surprise  discernible 
in  our  Lord's  word,  as  if  He  who  '  marvelled  at  the 
unbelief  of  those  who  were  not  His  followers,  mar- 
velled still  more  at  the  imperfect  sympathy  of  those 
who  were,  and  marvelled  most  of  all  at  such  a  sudden 
ebb  of  such  a  flood  of  devotion.  Surprise  and  sorrow, 
the  pain  of  a  loving  heart  thrown  back  upon  itself,  the 
sharp  pang  of  feeling  how  much  less  one  is  loved  than 
one  loves,  the  pleading  with   His  forgetful  servant, 


V.  37]        THE  SLEEPING  APOSTLE  195 

rebuke  without  anger,  all  breathe  through  the  question, 
so  pathetic  in  its  simplicity,  so  powerful  to  bow  in 
contrition  by  reason  of  its  very  gentleness  and  self- 
restraint. 

The  record  of  this  Evangelist  proves  how  deep  it 
sank  into  the  impulsive,  loving  heart  of  the  apostle, 
and  yet  the  denials  in  the  high  priest's  palace,  which 
followed  so  soon,  show  how  much  less  power  it  had 
on  him  on  the  day  when  it  was  spoken,  than  it  gained 
as  he  looked  back  on  it  through  the  long  vista  of 
years  that  had  passed,  when  he  told  the  story  to 
Mark. 

The  first  lesson  to  be  gathered  from  these  words  is 
drawn  from  the  name  by  which  our  Lord  here  addresses 
the  apostle :  *  Simon,  sleepest  thou  ?  * 

Now  the  usage  of  Mark's  Gospel  in  reference  to  this 
apostle's  name  is  remarkably  uniform  and  precise. 
Both  his  names  occur  in  Mark's  catalogue  of  the 
Apostles :  '  Simon  he  surnamed  Peter.'  He  is  never 
called  by  both  again,  but  before  that  point  he  is  always 
Simon,  and  after  it  he  is  always  Peter,  except  in  this 
verse.  The  other  Evangelists  show  similar  purpose, 
for  the  most  part,  in  their  interchange  of  the  names. 
Luke,  for  instance,  always  calls  him  Simon  up  to  the 
same  point  as  Mark,  except  once  where  he  uses  the 
form  'Simon  Peter,'  and  thereafter  always  Peter, 
except  in  Christ's  solemn  warning,  *  Simon,  Simon, 
Satan  hath  desired  to  have  you,'  and  in  the  report  of 
the  tidings  that  met  the  disciples  on  their  return  trom 
Emmaus,  'The  Lord  hath  appeared  to  Simon.'  So 
Matthew  calls  him  Simon  in  the  story  of  the  first 
miraculous  draught  of  fishes,  and  in  the  catalogue  of 
Apostles,  and  afterwards  uniformly  Peter,  except  in 
Christ's  answer  to  the  apostle's  great  confession,  where 


196  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xiv. 

He  names  him  *  Simon  Bar  Jona,'  in  order,  as  would 
appear,  to  bring  into  more  solemn  relief  the  signi- 
ficance of  the  immediately  following  words,  *  Thou  art 
Peter.'  In  John's  Gospel,  again,  we  find  the  two  forms 
•  Simon  Peter '  and  the  simple  *  Peter '  used  throughout 
with  almost  equal  frequency,  while  *  Simon '  is  only 
employed  at  the  very  beginning,  and  in  the  heart- 
piercing  triple  question  at  the  end,  'Simon,  son  of 
Jonas,  lovest  thou  Me  ? ' 

The  conclusion  seems  a  fair  one  from  these  details 
that,  on  the  whole,  the  name  Simon  brings  into  pro- 
minence the  natural  unrenewed  humanity,  and  the 
name  Peter  suggests  the  Apostolic  office,  the  bold  con- 
fessor, the  impulsive,  warm-hearted  lover  and  follower 
of  the  Lord.  And  it  is  worth  noticing  that,  with  one 
exception,  the  instances  in  which  he  is  called  by  his 
former  name,  after  his  designation  to  the  apostolate, 
occur  in  words  addressed  to  him  by  our  Lord. 

Ho  had  given  the  name,  and  surely  His  withdrawal 
of  it  was  meant  to  be  significant,  and  must  have  struck 
with  boding,  rebuking  emphasis  on  the  ear  and  con- 
science of  the  apostle.  'Simon,  Simon,  Satan  hath 
desired  to  have  you':  'Remember  thy  human  weak- 
ness, and  in  the  sore  conflict  that  is  before  thee,  trust 
not  to  thine  own  power.'  'Simon,  sleepest  thou?' 
'  Can  I  call  thee  Peter  now,  when  thou  hast  not  cared 
for  My  sorrow  enough  to  wake  while  I  wrestled  ?  Is 
this  thy  fervid  love?'  'Simon,  son  of  Jonas,  lovest 
thou  Me  ? '  '  Thou  wast  Peter  because  thou  didst  con- 
fess Me;  thou  hast  fallen  back  to  thine  old  level  by 
denying  Me.  It  is  not  enough  that  in  secret  I  should 
have  restored  thee  to  My  love.  Here  before  thy 
brethren,  thou  must  win  back  thy  forfeited  name  and 
place  by  a  confession  as  open  as  the  denial,  and  thrice 


V.  37]        THE  SLEEPING  APOSTLE  197 

repeated  like  it.  Once  thou  hast  answered,  but  still 
thou  art  "  Simon."  Twice  thou  hast  answered,  but  not 
yet  can  I  call  thee  "  Peter."  Thrice  thou  hast  answered, 
by  each  reply  effacing  a  former  denial,  and  now  I  ask 
no  more.  Take  back  thine  office ;  henceforth  thou 
shalt  be  called  "  Cephas  "  as  before.' 

And  so  it  was.  In  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  in 
Paul's  letters, '  Peter '  or  '  Cephas '  entirely  obliterates 
•  Simon.'  Only  for  ease  in  finding  him,  the  messengers 
of  Cornelius  are  to  ask  for  him  in  Joppa  by  the  name 
by  which  he  would  be  known  outside  the  Church,  and 
his  old  companion  James  begins  his  speech  to  the 
council  at  Jerusalem  by  referring  with  approbation  to 
what  *  Simeon '  had  said,  as  if  he  liked  to  use  the  old 
name,  that  brought  back  memories  of  the  far-off  days 
in  Galilee,  before  they  had  known  the  Master. 

Very  touching,  too,  is  it  to  notice  how  the  apostle 
himself,  while  using  the  name  by  which  he  was  best 
known  in  the  Church,  in  the  introduction  to  his  first 
Epistle,  calls  himself  '  Simon  Peter '  in  his  second,  as  if 
to  the  end  he  felt  that  the  old  nature  clung  to  him,  and 
was  not  yet,  'so  long  as  he  was  in  this  tabernacle,' 
wholly  subdued  under  the  dominion  of  the  better  self, 
which  his  Master  had  breathed  into  him. 

So  we  see  that  a  bit  of  biography  and  an  illustration 
of  a  large  truth  are  wrapped  up  for  us  in  so  small  a 
matter  as  the  apparently  fortuitous  use  of  one  or 
other  of  these  names.  I  do  not  suppose  that  in  every 
instance  where  either  of  them  occur,  we  can  explain 
their  occurrence  by  a  reference  to  such  thoughts.  But 
still  there  is  an  unmistakable  propriety  in  several 
instances  in  the  employment  of  one  rather  than  the 
other,  and  we  may  fairly  suggest  the  lesson  as  put  here 
in  a  picturesque  form,  which  Paul  gives  us  in  definite 


198  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [oh.xiv. 

words,  'The  flesh  lusteth  against  the  spirit,  and  the 
spirit  against  the  flesh.'  The  better  and  the  worse 
nature  contend  in  all  Christian  souls,  or,  as  our  Lord 
says  with  such  merciful  leniency  in  this  very  context, 
*The  spirit  is  willing,  but  the  flesh  is  weak.'  However 
real  and  deep  the  change  which  passes  over  us  when 
*  Christ  is  formed  in  us,*  it  is  only  by  degrees  that  the 
transformation  spreads  through  our  being.  The  re- 
newing process  follows  upon  the  bestowment  of  the 
new  life,  and  works  from  its  deep  inward  centre  out- 
wards and  upwards  to  the  circumference  and  surface  of 
our  being,  on  condition  of  our  own  constant  diligence 
and  conflict. 

True,  •  If  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  new  creature '; 
but  also,  and  precisely  because  he  is,  therefore  the  daily 
and  hourly  exhortation  is,  •  Put  on  the  new  man.'  The 
leaven  is  buried  in  the  dough,  and  must  be  well  kneaded 
up  with  it  if  the  whole  is  to  be  leavened.  Peter  is  still 
Simon,  and  sometimes  seems  to  be  so  completely  Simon 
that  he  has  ceased  to  be  Peter.  He  continues  Simon 
Peter  to  his  own  consciousness  to  the  very  end,  how- 
ever his  brethren  call  him.  The  struggle  between  the 
two  elements  in  his  nature  makes  the  undying  interest 
of  his  story,  and  brings  him  nearer  to  us  than  any  of 
the  other  disciples  are.  We,  too,  have  to  wage  the  con- 
flict between  the  old  nature  and  the  new ;  for  us,  too, 
the  worse  part  seems  too  often  to  be  the  stronger,  if 
not  the  only  part.  The  Master  has  often  to  speak  to 
us,  as  if  His  merciful  all-seeing  eye  could  discern  in  us 
nothing  of  our  better  selves  which  are  in  truth  Himself, 
and  has  to  question  our  love.  We,  too,  have  often  to 
feel  how  little  those  who  think  best  of  us  know  what 
we  are.  But  let  us  take  heart  and  remember  that  from 
every  fall  it  is  possible  to  rise  by  penitence  and  secret 


V.  37]        THE  SLEEPING  APOSTLE  199 

converse  with  Him,  and  that  if  only  we  remember  to 
the  end  our  lingering  weakness,  and  'giving  all  dili- 
gence,' cleave  to  Him,  *  an  entrance  shall  be  ministered 
unto  us  abundantly  into  His  everlasting  kingdom.* 

We  may  briefly  notice,  too,  some  other  lessons  from 
this  slumbering  apostle. 

Let  us  learn,  for  instance,  to  distrust  our  own  resolu- 
tions. An  hour  or  two  at  the  most  had  passed  since 
the  eager  protestation,  *  Though  all  should  deny  Thee, 
yet  will  not  I.  I  will  lay  down  my  life  for  Thy  sake.' 
It  had  been  most  honestly  said,  at  the  dictate  of  a  very 
loving  heart,  which  in  its  enthusiasm  was  over-estimat- 
ing its  own  power  of  resistance,  and  taking  no  due 
account  of  obstacles.  The  very  utterance  of  the  rash 
vow  made  him  weaker,  for  some  of  his  force  was  ex- 
pended in  making  it.  The  uncalculating,  impulsive 
nature  of  the  man  makes  him  a  favourite  with  all 
readers,  and  we  sympathise  with  him,  as  a  true  brother, 
when  we  hear  him  blurting  out  his  big  words,  followed 
so  soon  by  such  a  contradiction  in  deeds.  He  is  the 
same  man  all  through  his  story,  always  ready  to  push 
himself  into  dangers,  always  full  of  rash  confidence, 
which  passes  at  once  into  abject  fear  when  the  dangers 
which  he  had  not  thought  about  appear. 

His  sleep  in  the  garden,  following  close  on  his  bold 
words  in  the  upper  chamber,  is  just  like  his  eager 
wish  to  come  to  Christ  on  the  water,  followed  by  his 
terror.  He  desires  to  be  singled  out  from  the  others ; 
he  desires  to  be  beside  his  Master,  and  then  as  soon  as 
he  feels  a  dash  of  spray  on  his  cheek,  and  the  heaving 
of  that  uneasy  floor  beneath  him,  all  his  confidence 
collapses  and  he  shrieks  to  Christ  to  save  him.  It  is 
just  like  his  thrusting  himself  into  the  high  priest's 
palace — no  safe  place,  and  bad  company  for  him  by 


200  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xiv. 

the  coal  fire — and  then  his  courage  oozing  out  at  his 
fingers'  ends  as  soon  as  a  maidservant's  sharp  tongue 
questioned  him.  It  is  just  like  his  hearty  welcome 
of  the  heathen  converts  at  Antioch,  and  his  ready 
breaking  through  Jewish  restrictions,  and  then  his 
shrinking  back  into  his  old  shell  again,  as  soon  as 
*  certain  came  down  from  Jerusalem.' 
\  And  in  it  all,  he  is  one  of  ourselves.  We  have  to 
learn  to  distrust  all  our  own  resolutions,  and  to  be 
chary  of  our  vows.  'Better  is  it  that  thou  shouldest 
not  vow,  than  that  thou  shouldest  vow  and  not  pay.' 
So,  aware  of  our  own  weakness,  and  the  flutterings  of 
our  own  hearts,  let  us  not  mortgage  the  future,  nor 
lightly  say  'I  will' — but  rather  let  us  turn  our  vows 
into  prayers, 

*  Nor  confidently  say, 
"  I  never  will  deny  Thee,  Lord  1 " 
But,  "  Grant  I  never  may." ' 

y^f  Let  us  note,  too,  the  slight  value  of  even  genuine 
emotion.  The  very  exhaustion  following  on  the 
strained  emotions  which  these  disciples  had  been  ex- 
periencing had  sent  them  to  sleep.  Luke,  in  his 
physician-like  way,  tells  us  this,  when  he  says  that 
they  '  slept  for  sorrow.'  We  all  know  how  some  great 
emotion  which  we  might  have  expected  would  have 
held  our  eyes  waking,  lulls  to  slumber.  Men  sleep 
soundly  on  the  night  before  their  execution.  A  widow 
leaves  her  husband's  deathbed  as  soon  as  he  has  passed 
away,  and  sleeps  a  dreamless  sleep  for  hours.  The 
strong  current  of  emotion  sweeps  through  us,  and 
leaves  us  dry.  Sheer  exhaustion  and  collapse  follow 
its  intenser  forms.  And  even  in  its  milder,  nothing 
takes  so  much  out  of  a  man  as  emotion.     Reaction 


V.  37]        THE  SLEEPING  APOSTLE  201 

always  follows,  and  people  are  in  some  degree  unfitted 
for  sober  work  by  it.  Peter,  for  example,  was  all  the 
less  ready  for  keeping  awake,  and  for  bold  confession, 
because  of  the  vehement  emotions  which  had  agitated 
him  in  the  upper  chamber.  We  have,  therefore,  to  be 
chary,  in  our  religious  life,  of  feeding  the  flames  of 
mere  feeling.  An  unemotional  Christianity  is  a  very 
poor  thing,  and  most  probably  a  spurious  and  unreal 
thing.  But  a  merely  emotional  Christianity  is  closely 
related  to  practical  unholiness,  and  leads  by  a  very  short 
straight  road  to  windy  wordy  insincerity  and  conscious 
hypocrisy.  Emotion  which  is  firmly  based  upon  an 
intelligent  grasp  of  God's  truth,  and  which  is  at  once 
translated  into  action,  is  good.  But  unless  these  two 
conditions  be  rigidly  observed,  it  darkens  the  under- 
standing and  enfeebles  the  soul. 

Lastly,  notice  how  much  easier  it  is  to  purpose  and 
to  do  great  things  than  small  ones. 

I  have  little  doubt  that  if  the  Roman  soldiers  had 
called  on  Peter  to  have  made  good  his  boast,  and  to 
give  up  his  life  to  rescue  his  Master,  he  would  have  been 
ready  to  do  it.  We  know  that  he  was  ready  to  fight 
for  Him,  and  in  fact  did  draw  a  sword  and  offer  resist- 
ance. He  could  die  for  Him,  but  he  could  not  keep 
awake  for  Him.  The  great  thing  he  could  have  done, 
the  little  thing  he  could  not  do. 

Brethren,  it  is  far  easier  once  in  a  way,  by  a  dead  lift, 
to  screw  ourselves  up  to  some  great  crisis  which  seems 
worthy  of  a  supreme  effort  of  enthusiasm  and  sacrifice, 
than  it  is  to  keep  on  persistently  doing  the  small 
monotonies  of  daily  duty.  Many  a  soldier  will  bravely 
rush  to  the  assault  in  a  storming-party,  who  would 
tremble  in  the  trenches.  Many  a  martyr  has  gone 
unblenching  to  the  stake  for  Christ,  who  had  found 


202  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xiv. 

it  far  harder  to  serve  Him  in  common  duties.  It  is 
easier  to  die  for  Him  than  to  watch  with  Him.  So  let 
us  listen  to  His  gentle  voice,  as  He  speaks  to  us,  not  as 
of  old  in  the  pauses  of  His  agony,  and  His  locks  wet 
with  the  dews  of  the  night,  but  bending  from  His 
throne,  and  crowned  with  many  crowns :  '  Sleepest 
thou  ?    Watch  and  pray,  lest  ye  enter  into  temptation.' 


THE  CAPTIVE  CHRIST  AND  THE  CIRCLE 
ROUND  HIM 

'  And  immediately,  while  He  yet  spake,  cometh  Judas,  one  of  the  twelve,  and 
with  him  a  great  multitude  with  swords  and  staves,  from  the  chief  priests  and 
the  scribes  and  the  elders.  44.  And  he  that  betrayed  Him  had  given  them  a  token, 
Baying,  Whomsoever  I  shall  kiss,  that  same  is  He ;  take  Him,  and  lead  Him  away 
safely.  45.  And  as  soon  as  he  was  come,  he  goeth  straightway  to  Him,  and  saith. 
Master,  Master ;  and  kissed  Him.  46.  And  they  laid  their  hands  on  Him,  and  took 
Him.  47.  And  one  of  them  that  stood  by  drew  a  sword,  and  smote  a  servant  of 
the  high  priest,  and  cut  off  his  ear.  48.  And  Jesus  answered  and  said  unto  them. 
Are  ye  come  out,  as  against  a  thief,  with  swords  and  with  staves  to  take  Me? 
49.  I  was  daily  with  you  in  the  temple  teaching,  and  ye  took  Me  not :  but  the 
scriptures  must  be  fulfilled.  50.  And  they  all  forsook  Him,  and  fled.  51.  And 
there  followed  Him  a  certain  young  man,  having  a  linen  cloth  cast  about  his 
naked  body ;  and  the  young  man  laid  hold  on  Him :  52.  And  he  left  the  linen  cloth, 
and  fled  from  them  naked.  63.  And  they  led  Jesus  away  to  the  high  priest :  and 
with  him  were  assembled  all  the  chief  priests  and  the  elders  and  the  scribes. 
54.  And  Peter  followed  Him  afar  off,  even  into  the  palace  of  the  high  priest :  and 
he  sat  with  the  servants,  and  warmed  himself  at  the  fire.'— Mark  ziv.  43-54. 

A  COMPARISON  of  the  three  first  Gospels  in  this  section 
shows  a  degree  of  similarity,  often  verbal,  which  is  best 
accounted  for  by  supposing  that  a  common  (oral?) 
'Gospel,'  which  had  become  traditionally  fixed  by 
frequent  and  long  repetition,  underlies  them  all. 
Mark's  account  is  briefest,  and  grasps  with  sure  instinct 
the  essential  points ;  but,  even  in  his  brevity,  he  pauses 
to  tell  of  the  young  man  who  so  nearly  shared  the 
Lord's  apprehension.  The  canvas  is  narrow  and 
crowded ;  but  we  may  see  unity  in  the  picture,  if  we 
regard  as  the  central  fact  the  sacrilegious  seizure  of 
Jesus,  and  the  other  incidents  and  persons  as  grouped 
round  it  and  Him,  and  reflecting  various  moods  of 
men's  feelings  towards  Him. 

I.  The  avowed  and  hypocritical  enemies  of  incarnate 
love.  Again  we  have  Mark's  favourite  *  straightway,'  so 
frequent  in  the  beginning  of  the  Gospel,  and  occurring 
twice  here,  vividly  painting  both  the  sudden  inburst  of 

203 


204  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xiv. 

the  crowd  which  interrupted  Christ's  words  and  broke 
the  holy  silence  of  the  garden,  and  Judas's  swift  kiss. 
He  is  named — the  only  name  but  our  Lord's  in  the 
section;  and  the  depth  of  his  sin  is  emphasised  by 
adding  'one  of  the  twelve.'  He  is  not  named  in  the 
next  verse,  but  gibbeted  for  immortal  infamy  by  the 
designation,  •  he  that  betrayed  Him.'  There  is  no 
dilating  on  his  crime,  nor  any  bespattering  him  with 
epithets.  The  passionless  narrative  tells  of  the  criminal 
and  his  crime  with  unsparing,  unmoved  tones,  which 
have  caught  some  echo  beforehand  of  the  Judge's 
voice.  To  name  the  sinner,  and  to  state  without  cloak 
or  periphrasis  what  his  deed  really  was,  is  condemnation 
enough.    Which  of  us  could  stand  it  ? 

Judas  was  foremost  of  the  crowd.  What  did  he  feel 
as  he  passed  swiftly  into  the  shadow  of  the  olives,  and 
caught  the  first  sight  of  Jesus  ?  That  the  black  depths 
of  his  spirit  were  agitated  is  plain  from  two  things — 
the  quick  kiss,  and  the  nauseous  repetition  of  it.  Mark 
says, '  Straightway  ...  he  kissed  Him  much.'  Probably 
the  swiftness  and  vehemence,  so  graphically  expressed 
by  these  two  touches,  were  due,  not  only  to  fear  lest 
Christ  should  escape,  and  to  hypocrisy  overacting  its 
part,  but  to  a  struggle  with  conscience  and  ancient 
affection,  and  a  fierce  determination  to  do  the  thing 
and  have  it  over.  Judas  is  not  the  only  man  who  has 
tried  to  drown  conscience  by  hurrying  into  and  reiter- 
ating the  sin  from  which  conscience  tries  to  keep  him. 
The  very  extravagances  of  evil  betray  the  divided  and 
stormy  spirit  of  the  doer.  In  the  darkness  and  con- 
fusion, the  kiss  was  a  surer  token  than  a  word  or  a 
pointing  finger  would  have  been;  and  simple  con- 
venience appears  to  have  led  to  its  selection.  But 
what  a  long  course  of  hypocrisy  must  have  preceded. 


vs.  4364]     THE  CAPTIVE  CHRIST  205 

and  how  complete  the  alienation  of  heart  must  have 
become,  before  such  a  choice  was  possible !  That 
traitor's  kiss  has  become  a  symbol  for  all  treachery 
cloaked  in  the  garb  of  affection.  Its  lessons  and 
warnings  are  obvious,  but  this  other  may  be  added — 
that  such  audacity  and  nauseousness  of  hypocrisy  is 
not  reached  at  a  leap,  but  presupposes  long  underground 
tunnels  of  insincere  discipleship,  through  which  a  man 
has  burrowed,  unseen  by  others,  and  perhaps  unsus- 
pected by  himself.  Much  hypocrisy  of  the  unconscious 
sort  precedes  the  deliberate  and  conscious. 

How  much  less  criminal  and  disgusting  was  the  rude 
crowd  at  Judas's  heels !  Most  of  them  were  mere 
passive  tools.  The  Evangelist  points  beyond  them  to 
the  greater  criminals  by  his  careful  enumeration  of  all 
classes  of  the  Jewish  authorities,  thus  laying  the 
responsibility  directly  on  their  shoulders,  and  indirectly 
on  the  nation  whom  they  represented.  The  semi- 
tumultuous  character  of  the  crowd  is  shown  by  calling 
them  'a  multitude,'  and  by  the  medley  of  weapons 
which  they  carried.  Half -ignorant  hatred,  which  had 
had  ample  opportunities  of  becoming  knowledge  and 
love,  offended  formalism,  blind  obedience  to  ecclesiasti- 
cal superiors,  the  dislike  of  goodness — these  impelled 
the  rabble  who  burst  into  the  garden  of  Gethsemane. 

II.  Incarnate  love,  bound  and  patient.  We  may  bring 
together  verses  46,  48,  and  49,  the  first  of  which  tells  in 
simplest,  briefest  words  the  sacrilegious  violence  done 
to  Jesus,  while  the  others  record  His  calm  remonstrance. 
•  They  laid  hands  on  Him.'  That  was  the  first  stage  in 
outrage — the  quick  stretching  of  many  hands  to  secure 
the  unresisting  prisoner.  They  'took  Him,'  or,  as 
perhaps  we  might  better  render,  '  They  held  Him  fast,' 
as  would  have  been  done  with  any  prisoner.    Surely, 


206  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xiv. 

the  quietest  way  of  telling  tliat  stupendous  fact  is  the 
best !  It  is  easy  to  exclaim,  and,  after  the  fashion  of 
some  popular  writers  of  lives  of  Christ,  to  paint  fancy 
pictures.  It  is  better  to  be  sparing  of  words,  like  Mark, 
and  silently  to  meditate  on  the  patient  long-suffering 
of  the  love  which  submitted  to  these  indignities,  and 
on  the  blindness  which  had  no  welcome  but  this  for 
•  God  manifest  in  the  flesh.'  Both  are  in  full  operation 
to-day,  and  the  germs  of  the  latter  are  in  us  all. 

Mark  confines  himself  to  that  one  of  Christ's  sayings 
which  sets  in  the  clearest  light  His  innocence  and  meek 
submissiveness.  With  all  its  calmness  and  patience,  it 
is  majestic  and  authoritative,  and  sounds  as  if  spoken 
from  a  height  far  above  the  hubbub.  Its  question  is 
not  only  an  assertion  of  His  innocence,  and  therefore 
of  his  captor's  guilt,  but  also  declares  the  impotence  of 
force  as  against  Him — '  Swords  and  staves  to  take  Me !' 
All  that  parade  of  arms  was  out  of  place,  for  He  was  no 
evil-doer ;  needless,  for  He  did  not  resist ;  and  power- 
less, unless  He  chose  to  let  them  prevail.  He  speaks  as 
the  stainless,  incarnate  Son  of  God.  He  speaks  also  as 
Captain  of  '  the  noble  army  of  martyrs,'  and  His  ques- 
tion may  be  extended  to  include  the  truth  that  force  is 
in  its  place  when  used  against  crime,  but  ludicrously 
and  tragically  out  of  place  when  employed  against  any 
teacher,  and  especially  against  Christianity.  Christ,  in 
His  persecuted  confessors,  puts  the  same  question  to 
the  persecutors  which  Christ  in  the  flesh  put  to  His 
captors. 

The  second  clause  of  Christ's  remonstrance  appeals 
to  their  knowledge  of  Him  and  His  words,  and  to  their 
attitude  towards  Him.  For  several  days  He  had  daily 
been  publicly  teaching  in  the  Temple.  They  had  laid 
no  hands  on  Him.    Nay,  some  of  them,  no  doubt,  had 


V8. 43-54]     THE  CAPTIVE  CHRIST  207 

helped  to  wave  the  palm-branches  and  swell  the  hosan- 
nas.  He  does  not  put  the  contrast  of  then  and  now  in 
its  strongest  form,  but  spares  them,  even  while  He  says 
enough  to  bring  an  unseen  blush  to  some  cheeks.  He 
would  have  them  ask,  'Why  this  change  in  us,  since 
He  is  the  same  ?  Did  He  deserve  to  be  hailed  as  King 
a  few  short  hours  ago  ?  How,  then,  before  the  palm- 
branches  are  withered,  can  He  deserve  rude  hands  ? ' 
Men  change  in  their  feelings  to  the  unchanging  Christ ; 
and  they  who  have  most  closely  marked  the  rise  and 
fall  of  the  tide  in  their  own  hearts  will  be  the  last  to 
wonder  at  Christ's  captors,  and  will  most  appreciate 
the  gentleness  of  His  rebuke  and  remonstrance. 

The  third  clause  rises  beyond  all  notice  of  the  human 
agents,  and  soars  to  the  divine  purpose  which  wrought 
itself  out  through  them.  That  divine  purpose  does  not 
make  them  guiltless,  but  it  makes  Jesus  submissive. 
He  bows  utterly,  and  with  no  reluctance,  to  the  Father's 
will,  which  could  be  wrought  out  through  unconscious 
instruments,  and  had  been  declared  of  old  by  half- 
understanding  prophets,  but  needed  the  obedience  of 
the  Son  to  be  clear-seeing,  cheerful,  and  complete.  We, 
too,  should  train  ourselves  to  see  the  hand  that  moves 
the  pieces,  and  to  make  God's  will  our  will,  as  becomes 
sons.  Then  Christ's  calm  will  be  ours,  and,  ceasing 
from  self,  and  conscious  of  God  everywhere,  and  yield- 
ing our  wills,  which  are  the  self  of  ourselves,  to  Him, 
we  shall  enter  into  rest. 

III.  Hash  love  defending  its  Lord  with  wrong  weapons 
(verse  47).  Peter  may  have  felt  that  he  must  do  some- 
thing to  vindicate  his  recent  boasting,  and,  with  his 
usual  headlong  haste,  stops  neither  to  ask  what  good 
his  sword  is  likely  to  do,  nor  to  pick  his  man  and  take 
deliberate  aim  at  him.    If  swords  were  to  be  used,  they 


208  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xiv. 

should  do  something  more  effectual  than  hacking  off  a 
poor  servant's  ear.  There  was  love  in  the  foolish  deed, 
and  a  certain  heroism  in  braving  the  chance  of  a  return 
thrust  or  capture,  which  should  go  to  Peter's  credit.  If 
he  alone  struck  a  blow  for  his  Master,  it  was  because 
the  others  were  more  cowardly,  not  more  enlightened. 
Peter  has  had  rather  hard  measure  about  this  matter, 
and  is  condemned  by  some  of  us  who  would  not  venture 
a  tenth  part  of  what  he  ventured  for  his  Lord  then. 
No  doubt,  this  was  blind  and  blundering  love,  with  an 
alloy  of  rashness  and  wish  for  prominence ;  but  that  is 
better  than  unloving  enlightenment  and  caution,  which 
is  chiefly  solicitous  about  keeping  its  own  ears  on.  It 
is  also  worse  than  love  which  sees  and  reflects  the 
image  of  the  meek  Sufferer  whom  it  loves.  Christ  and 
His  cause  are  to  be  defended  by  other  weapons.  Chris- 
tian heroism  endures  and  does  not  smite.  Not  only 
swords,  but  bitter  words  which  wound  worse  than  they, 
are  forbidden  to  Christ's  soldier.  We  are  ever  being 
tempted  to  fight  Christ's  battles  with  the  world's 
weapons  ;  and  many  a  '  defender  of  the  faith '  in  later 
days,  perhaps  even  in  this  very  enlightened  day,  has 
repeated  Peter's  fault  with  less  excuse  than  he,  and 
with  very  little  of  either  his  courage  or  his  love. 

IV.  Cowardly  love  forsaking  its  Lord  (verse  50). 
•They  all  forsook  Him,  and  fled.'  And  who  will  ven- 
ture to  say  that  he  would  not  have  done  so  too  ?  The 
tree  that  can  stand  such  a  blast  must  have  deep  roots. 
The  Christ  whom  they  forsook  was,  to  them,  but  a 
fragment  of  the  Christ  whom  we  know ;  and  the  fear 
which  scattered  them  was  far  better  founded  and  more 
powerful  than  anything  which  the  easy-going  Chris- 
tians of  to-day  have  to  resist.  Their  flight  may  teach 
us  to  place  little  reliance  on  our  emotions,  however 


vs.  43-54]      THE  CAPTIVE  CHRIST  209 

genuine  and  deep,  and  to  look  for  the  security  for  our 
continual  adherence  to  Christ,  not  to  our  fluctuating 
feelings,  but  to  His  steadfast  love.  We  keep  close  to 
Him,  not  because  our  poor  fingers  grasp  His  hand — for 
that  grasp  is  always  feeble,  and  often  relaxed — but 
because  His  strong  and  gentle  hand  holds  us  with  a 
grasp  which  nothing  can  loosen.  Whoso  trusts  in  his 
own  love  to  Christ  builds  on  sand,  but  whoso  trusts  in 
Christ's  love  to  him  builds  on  rock. 

V.  Adventurous  curiosity  put  to  flight  (verses  51,  52). 
Probably  this  young  man  was  Mark.  Only  he  tells  the 
incident,  which  has  no  bearing  on  the  course  of  events, 
and  was  of  no  importance  but  to  the  person  concerned. 
He  has  put  himself  unnamed  in  a  corner  of  his  picture, 
as  monkish  painters  used  to  do,  content  to  associate 
himself  even  thus  with  his  Lord.  His  hastily  cast-on 
covering  seems  to  show  that  he  had  been  roused  from 
sleep.  Mingled  love  and  curiosity  and  youthful  adven- 
turousness  made  him  bold  to  follow  when  Apostles 
had  fled.  No  effort  appears  to  have  been  made  to  stop 
their  flight ;  but  he  is  laid  hold  of,  and,  terrified  at  his 
own  rashness,  wriggles  himself  out  of  his  captors'  hands. 
The  whole  incident  singularly  recalls  Mark's  behaviour 
on  Paul's  first  missionary  journey.  There  are  the  same 
adventurousness,  the  same  inconsiderate  entrance  on 
perilous  paths,  the  same  ignominious  and  hasty  retreat 
at  the  first  whistle  of  the  bullets.  A  man  who  pushes 
himself  needlessly  into  difficulties  and  dangers  without 
estimating  their  force  is  pretty  sure  to  take  to  his  heels 
as  soon  as  he  feels  them,  and  to  cut  as  undignified  a 
figure  as  this  naked  fugitive. 

VI.  Love  frightened,  but  following  (verse  54).  Fear 
had  driven  Peter  but  a  little  way.  Love  soon  drew 
him    and    John    back.      Sudden    and    often    opposite 

VOL.  II.  o 


210  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xiv. 

impulses  moved  his  conduct  and  ruffled  the  surface  of 
his  character,  but,  deep  down,  the  core  was  loyal  love. 
He  followed,  but  afar  off:  though  'afar  off,'  he  did 
follow.  If  his  distance  betrayed  his  terror,  his  follow- 
ing witnessed  his  bravery.  He  is  not  a  coward  who  is 
afraid,  but  he  who  lets  his  fear  hinder  him  from  duty 
or  drive  him  to  flight.  What  is  all  Christian  living 
but  following  Christ  afar  off  ?  And  do  the  best  of  us 
do  more,  though  we  have  less  apology  for  our  distance 
than  Peter  had  ?  '  Leaving  us  an  example,  that  ye 
should  follow  His  steps,'  said  he,  long  after,  perhaps 
remembering  both  that  morning  and  the  other  by  the 
lake  when  he  was  bidden  to  leave  other  servants'  tasks 
to  the  Master's  disposal,  and,  for  his  own  part,  to 
follow  Him. 

His  love  pushed  him  into  a  dangerous  place.  He 
was  in  bad  company  among  the  inferior  sort  of  servants 
huddled  around  the  fire  that  cold  morning,  at  the  lower 
end  of  the  hall ;  and  as  its  light  flickered  on  his  face, 
he  was  sure  to  be  recognised.  But  we  have  not  now 
to  do  with  his  denial.  Rather  he  is  the  type  of  a  true 
disciple,  coercing  his  human  weakness  and  cowardice 
to  yield  to  the  attraction  which  draws  him  to  his  Lord, 
and  restful  in  the  humblest  place  where  he  can  catch  a 
glimpse  of  His  face,  and  so  be,  as  he  long  after  alleged 
it  as  his  chief  title  to  authority  to  have  been, '  a  witness 
of  the  sufferings  of  Christ.' 


THE  CONDEMNATION  WHICH  CONDEMNS 
THE  JUDGES 

And  the  chief  priests  and  all  the  council  sought  for  witness  against  Jesus  to  put 
Him  to  death ;  and  found  none.  66.  For  many  bare  false  witness  against  Him,  but 
their  witness  agreed  not  together.  57.  And  there  arose  certain,  and  bare  false 
witness  against  Him,  saying,  58.  We  heard  Him  say,  I  will  destroy  this  temple 
that  is  made  with  hands,  and  within  three  days  I  will  build  another  made  without 
hands.  59.  But  neither  so  did  their  witness  agree  together.  60.  And  the  high 
priest  stood  up  in  their  midst,  and  asked  Jesus,  saying,  Answerest  Thou  nothing? 
what  is  it  which  these  witness  against  Thee  ?  61.  But  He  held  His  peace,  and 
answered  nothing.  Again  the  high  priest  asked  Him,  and  said  unto  Him,  Art 
Thou  the  Christ,  the  Son  of  the  Blessed  ?  62.  And  Jesus  said,  I  am :  and  ye  shall 
see  the  Son  of  Man,  sitting  on  the  right  hand  of  power,  and  coming  in  the  clouds 
of  heaven.  63.  Then  the  high  priest  rent  his  clothes,  and  saith.  What  need  we  any 
further  witnesses?  64.  Ye  have  heard  the  blasphemy :  what  think  ye  ?  And  they 
all  condemned  Him  to  be  guilty  of  death.  65.  And  some  began  to  spit  on  Him,  and 
to  cover  His  face,  and  to  buffet  Him,  and  to  say  unto  Him,  Prophesy :  and  the 
servants  did  strike  Him  with  the  palms  of  their  hands,'— Makk  xiv.  55-65. 

Mark  brings  out  three  stages  in  our  Lord's  trial  by 
the  Jewish  authorities — their  vain  attempts  to  find 
evidence  against  Him,  which  were  met  by  His  silence  ;     ' 
His  own  majestic  witness  to  Himself,  which  was  met    ^ 
by  a  unanimous  shriek  of  condemnation  ;  and  the  rude  ^^ 
mockery  of  the  underlings.     The  other  Evangelists 
especially   John,    supply   many   illuminative    details    ^^ 
but  the  essentials  are  here.     It  is  only  in  criticisi^®'^^® 
the  Gospels  that  a  summary  and  a  fuller  narrat^^^'^S 
are  dealt  with  as  contradictory.    These  three  stf^  such 
naturally  divide  this  paragraph.  inew  to 

I.  The  judges  with  evil  thoughts,  the  false  witn'^  solemn 
and  the  silent  Christ  (verses  55-61).  The  crimi/^r  been 
condemned  before  He  is  tried.  The  judges  have^o"^  they 
up  their  minds  before  they  sit,  and  the  Sanhecsing,  that 
not  a  court  of  justice,  but  a  slaughter-house,Jih  Christ, 
murder  is  to  be  done  under  sanction  of  law.ges  change 
like  Matthew,  notes  the  unanimity  of  the  'coHe  says  to 
which  Joseph  of  Arimathea — the  one  swall«^ 


212  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xiv. 

does  not  make  a  summer — appears  to  have  been  the 
only  exception;  and  he  probably  was  absent,  or,  if 
present,  was  silent.  He  did  '  not  consent ' ;  but  we  are 
not  told  that  he  opposed.  That  ill-omened  unanimity 
measures  the  nation's  sin.  Flagrant  injustice  and 
corruption  in  high  places  is  possible  only  when  society 
as  a  whole  is  corrupt  or  indifferent  to  corruption.  This 
prejudging  of  a  case  from  hatred  of  the  accused  as  a 
destroyer  of  sacred  tradition,  and  this  hunting  for 
evidence  to  bolster  up  a  foregone  conclusion,  are  pre- 
eminently the  vices  of  ecclesiastical  tribunals  and  not 
of  Jewish  Sanhedrim  or  Papal  Inquisition  only.  Where 
judges  look  for  witnesses  for  the  prosecution,  plenty 
will  be  found,  ready  to  curry  favour  by  lies.  The 
eagerness  to  find  witnesses  against  Jesus  is  witness 
for  Him,  as  showing  that  nothing  in  His  life  or  teach- 
ing was  sujBficient  to  warrant  their  murderous  purpose. 
His  judges  condemn  themselves  in  seeking  grounds  to 
condemn  Him,  for  they  thereby  show  that  their  real 
motive  was  personal  spite,  or,  as  Caiaphas  suggested, 

olitical  expediency. 

,  The  single  specimen  of  the  worthless  evidence  given 

y  be   either  a   piece   of  misunderstanding  or   of 
an 

..  icious  twisting   of   innocent  words;    nor  can  we 

.,  ,e  whether  the  witnesses  contradicted  one  another 
it  as- 

»   ,  h  himself.    The  former  is  the  more  probable,  as 

ndamental  principle  of  the  Jewish  law  of  evi- 

,('two  or  three  witnesses')  would,  in  that  case, 

t  the  testimony.    The  saying  which  they  garble 

the  very  opposite  of  what  they  made  it  mean. 

isented  Jesus  as  the  restorer  of  that  which 

ould  destroy.    It  referred  to  His  body  which 

le  Temple;  but  the  symbolic  temple  'made 

s '  is  so  inseparably  connected  with  the  real, 


vs.  55-65]        JUDGES  CONDEMNED  213 

that  the  fate  of  the  one  determines  that  of  the  other. 
Strangely  significant,  therefore,  is  it,  that  the  rulers 
heard  again,  though  distorted,  at  that  moment  when 
they  were  on  their  trial,  the  far-reaching  sentence, 
which  might  have  taught  them  that  in  slaying  Jesus 
they  were  throwing  down  the  Temple  and  all  which 
centred  in  it,  and  that  by  His  resurrection,  His  own 
act.  He  would  build  up  again  a  new  polity,  which 
yet  was  but  the  old  transfigured,  even  '  the  Church, 
which  is  His  body.'  His  work  destroys  nothing  but 
'the  works  of  the  devil.'  He  is  the  restorer  of  the 
divine  ordinances  and  gifts  which  men  destroy,  and 
His  death  and  resurrection  bring  back  in  nobler  form 
all  the  good  things  lost  by  sin,  •  the  desolations  of 
many  generations.'  The  history  of  all  subsequent 
attacks  on  Christ  is  mirrored  here.  The  foregone 
conclusion,  the  evidence  sought  as  an  after-thought 
to  give  a  colourable  pretext,  the  material  found  by 
twisting  His  teaching,  the  blindness  which  accuses 
Him  of  destroying  what  He  restores,  and  fancies  itself 
as  preserving  what  it  is  destroying,  hare  all  reappeared 
over  and  over  again. 

Our  Lord's  silence  is  not  only  that  of  meekness, '  as 
a  sheep  before  her  shearers  is  dumb.'  It  is  the  silence 
of  innocence,  and,  if  we  may  use  the  word  concerning 
Him,  of  scorn.  He  will  not  defend  Himself  to  such 
judges,  nor  stoop  to  repel  evidence  which  they  knew  to 
be  worthless.  But  there  is  also  something  very  solemn 
and  judicial  in  His  locked  lips.  They  had  ever  been 
ready  to  open  in  words  of  loving  wisdom;  but  now  they 
are  fast  closed,  and  this  is  the  penalty  for  despising,  that 
He  ceases  to  speak.  Deaf  ears  make  a  dumb  Christ. 
What  will  happen  when  Jesus  and  His  judges  change 
places,  as  they  will  one  day  do?    When  He  says  to 


214  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xiv. 

each,  'Answerest  thou  nothing?  What  is  it  which 
these,  thy  sins,  witness  against  thee?'  each  will  be 
silent  with  the  consciousness  of  guilt  and  of  just 
condemnation  by  His  all-knowing  justice. 

II.  Christ's  majestic  witness  to  Himself  received  with 
a  shriek  of  condemnation.  What  a  supreme  moment 
that  was  when  the  head  of  the  hierarchy  put  this 
question  and  received  the  unambiguous  answer !  The 
veriest  impostor  asserting  Messiahship  had  a  right  to 
have  his  claims  examined ;  but  a  howl  of  hypocritical 
horror  is  all  which  Christ's  evoke.  The  high  priest 
knew  well  enough  what  Christ's  answer  would  be. 
Why,  then,  did  he  not  begin  by  questioning  Jesus, 
and  do  without  the  witnesses  ?  Probably  because  the 
council  wished  to  find  some  pretext  for  His  condemna- 
tion without  bringing  up  the  real  reason ;  for  it  looked 
ugly  to  condemn  a  man  for  claiming  to  be  Messias,  and 
to  do  it  without  examining  His  credentials.  The  failure, 
however,  of  the  false  witnesses  compelled  the  council 
to  •  show  their  hands,'  and  to  hear  and  reject  our  Lord 
solemnly  and,  so  to  speak,  officially,  laying  His  asser- 
tion of  dignity  and  office  before  them,  as  the  tribunal 
charged  with  the  duty  of  examining  His  proofs.  The 
question  is  so  definite  as  to  imply  a  pretty  full  and 
accurate  knowledge  of  our  Lord's  teaching  about  Him- 
self. It  embraces  two  points — office  and  nature ;  for 
*  the  Christ '  and  *  the  Son  of  the  Blessed '  are  not  equi- 
valents. The  latter  title  points  to  our  Lord's  declara- 
tions that  He  was  the  Son  of  God,  and  is  an  instance  of 
the  later  Jewish  superstition  which  avoided  using  the 
divine  name.  Loving  faith  delights  in  the  name  of  the 
Lord.  Dead  formalism  changes  reverence  into  dread, 
and  will  not  speak  it. 

Sham   reverence,  feigned  ignorance,  affected  wish 


vs.  55-65]         JUDGES  CONDEMNED  215 

for  information,  the  false  show  of  judicial  impar- 
tiality, and  other  lies  and  vices  not  a  few,  are  con- 
densed in  the  question;  and  the  fact  that  the  judge 
had  to  ask  it  and  hear  the  answer,  is  an  instance 
of  a  divine  purpose  working  through  evil  men,  and 
compelling  reluctant  lips  to  speak  words  the  meaning 
and  bearing  of  which  they  little  know.  Jesus  could 
not  leave  such  a  challenge  unanswered.  Silence  then 
would  have  been  abandonment  of  His  claims.  It  was 
fitting  that  the  representatives  of  the  nation  should, 
at  that  decisive  moment,  hear  Him  declare  Himself 
Messiah.  It  was  not  fitting  that  He  should  be  con- 
demned on  any  other  ground.  In  that  answer,  and  its 
reception  by  the  council,  the  nation's  rejection  of  Jesus 
is,  as  it  were,  focused  and  compressed.  This  was  the 
end  of  centuries  of  training  by  miracle,  prophet  and 
psalmist — the  saddest  instance  in  man's  long,  sad  history 
of  his  awful  power  to  frustrate  God's  patient  educating ! 
Our  Lord's  majestic  *  I  am,'  in  one  word  answers  both 
parts  of  the  question,  and  then  passes  on,  with  strange 
calm  and  dignity,  to  point  onwards  to  the  time  when 
the  criminal  will  be  the  judge,  and  the  judges  will  stand 
at  His  bar.  '  The  Son  of  Man,'  His  ordinary  designation 
of  Himself,  implies  His  true  manhood,  and  His  repre- 
sentative character,  as  perfect  man,  or,  to  use  modern 
language,  the  'realised  ideal'  of  humanity.  In  the 
present  connection,  its  employment  in  the  same  sentence 
as  His  assertion  that  He  is  the  Son  of  God  goes  deep 
into  the  mystery  of  His  twofold  nature,  and  declares 
that  His  manhood  had  a  supernatural  origin  and 
wielded  divine  prerogatives.  Accordingly  there  follows 
the  explicit  prediction  of  His  assumption  of  the  highest 
of  these  after  His  death.  The  Cross  Avas  as  plain  to 
Him  as  ever ;  but  beyond  it  gleamed  th^  crown  and  th© 


216  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xiv. 

throne.  He  anticipates  'sitting  on  the  right  hand  of 
power,'  which  implies  repose,  enthronement,  judicature, 
investiture  with  omnipotence,  and  administration  of 
the  universe.  He  anticipates  *  coming  in  the  clouds  of 
heaven,'  which  distinctly  claims  to  be  the  future  Judge 
of  the  world.  His  hearers  could  scarcely  fail  to  discern 
the  reference  to  Daniel's  prophecy. 

Was  ever  the  irony  of  history  more  pungently 
exemplified  than  in  an  Annas  and  Caiaphas  holding  up 
hands  of  horror  at  the  '  blasphemies '  of  Jesus  ?  They 
rightly  took  His  words  to  mean  more  than  the  claim 
of  Messiahship  as  popularly  understood.  To  say  that 
He  was  the  Christ  was  not  '  blasphemy,'  but  a  claim 
demanding  examination ;  but  to  say  that  He,  the  Son 
of  Man,  was  Son  of  God  and  supreme  Judge  was  so, 
according  to  their  canons.  How  unconsciously  the 
exclamation,  '  What  need  we  further  witnesses  ?  * 
betrays  the  purpose  for  which  the  witnesses  had  been 
sought,  as  being  simply  His  condemnation  !  They  were 
•needed'  to  compass  His  death,  which  the  council  now 
gleefully  feels  to  be  secured.  So  with  precipitate 
unanimity  they  vote.  And  this  was  Israel's  welcome 
to  their  King,  and  the  outcome  of  all  their  history! 
And  it  was  the  destruction  of  the  national  life.  That 
howl  of  condemnation  pronounced  sentence  on  them- 
selves and  on  the  whole  order  of  which  they  were  the 
heads.  The  prisoner's  eyes  alone  saw  then  what  we 
and  all  men  may  see  now — the  handwriting  on  the  wall 
of  the  high  priest's  palace:  'Weighed  in  the  balance, 
and  found  wanting.' 

III.  The  savage  mockers  and  the  patient  Christ 
(verse  65).  Tliere  is  an  evident  antithesis  between  the 
'  all '  of  verse  d)4  and  the  *  some '  of  verse  65,  which  shows 
that    the    inflJctors    of    the    indignities  were    certain 


Ts.  55-15]        JUDGES  CONDEMNED  217 

members  of  the  council,  whose  fury  carried  them 
beyond  all  bounds  of  decency.  The  subsequent  men- 
tion of  the  *  servants'  confirms  this,  especially  when  we 
adopt  the  more  accurate  rendering  of  the  Revised 
Version,  'received  Him  with  blows.'  Mark's  account, 
then,  is  this :  that,  as  soon  as  the  unanimous  howl  of 
condemnation  had  been  uttered,  some  of  the  '  judges  '  (!) 
fell  upon  Jesus  with  spitting  and  clumsy  ridicule  and 
downright  violence,  and  that  afterwards  He  was 
handed  over  to  the  underlings,  who  were  not  slow  to 
copy  the  example  set  them  at  the  upper  end  of  the  hall. 
It  was  not  an  ignorant  mob  who  thus  answered  His 
claims,  but  the  leaders  and  teachers — the  crSme  de  la 
crSme  of  the  nation.  A  wild  beast  lurks  below  the 
Pharisee's  long  robes  and  phylacteries;  and  the  more 
that  men  have  changed  a  living  belief  in  religion  for  a 
formal  profession,  the  more  fiercely  antagonistic  are 
they  to  every  attempt  to  realise  its  precepts  and  hopes. 
The  'religious'  men  who  mock  Jesus  in  the  name  of 
traditional  religion  are  by  no  means  an  extinct  species. 
It  is  of  little  use  to  shudder  at  the  blind  cruelty  of 
dead  scribes  and  priests.  Let  us  rather  remember  that 
the  seeds  of  their  sins  are  in  us  all,  and  take  care  to 
check  their  growth.  What  a  volcano  of  hellish  passion 
bursts  out  here !  Spitting  expresses  disgust ;  blinding 
and  asking  for  the  names  of  the  smiters  is  a  clumsy 
attempt  at  wit  and  ridicule ;  buffeting  is  the  last 
unrestrained  form  of  hate  and  malice.  The  world  has 
always  paid  its  teachers  and  benefactors  in  such  coin ; 
but  all  other  examples  pale  before  this  saddest,  tran- 
scendent instance.  Love  is  repaid  by  hate;  a  whole 
nation  is  blind  to  supreme  and  unspotted  goodness ; 
teachers  steeped  in  '  law  and  prophets '  cannot  see  Him 
of  and  for  whom  law  and  prophets  witnessed  and  were, 


218  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [i.H.xiv. 

when  He  stands  before  them.  The  sin  of  sins  is  the 
failure  to  recognise  Jesus  for  what  He  is.  ITis  person 
and  claims  are  the  touchstone  which  tries  every 
beholder  of  what  sort  He  is. 

How  wonderful  the  silent  patience  of  Jesus !  He 
withholds  not  His  face  '  from  shame  and  spitting.'  He 
gives  *  His  back  to  the  smiters.'  Meek  endurance  and 
passive  submission  are  not  all  which  we  have  to 
behold  there.  This  is  more  than  an  uncomplaining 
martyr.  This  is  the  sacrifice  for  the  world's  sin ;  and 
His  bearing  of  all  that  men  can  inflict  is  more  than 
heroism.  It  is  redeeming  love.  His  sad,  loving  eyes, 
wide  open  below  their  bandage,  saw  and  pitied  each 
rude  smiter,  even  as  He  sees  us  all.  They  were  and  are 
eyes  of  infinite  tenderness,  ready  to  beam  forgiveness ; 
but  they  were  and  are  the  eyes  of  the  Judge,  who  sees 
and  repays  His  foes,  as  those  who  smite  Him  will  one 
day  find  out. 


/ 

/ 


CHRIST  AND  PILATE:  THE  TRUE  KING  AND 
HIS  COUNTERFEIT 

'  And  straightway  in  the  morning  the  chief  priests  held  a  consultation  with  the 
elders  and  scribes  and  the  whole  council,  and  bound  Jesus,  and  carried  Him  away, 
and  delivered  Him  to  Pilate.  2.  And  Pilate  asked  Him,  Art  Thou  the  King  of  the 
Jews  ?  And  He  answering  said  unto  him,  Thou  sayest  it.  3.  And  the  chief  priests 
accused  Him  of  many  things :  but  He  answered  nothing.  L  And  Pilate  asked 
Him  again,  saying,  Answerest  Thou  nothing?  behold  how  many  things  they 
witness  against  Thee.  5.  But  Jesus  yet  answered  nothing ;  so  that  Pilate  mar- 
velled. 6.  Now  at  that  feast  he  released  unto  them  one  prisoner,  whomsoever  they 
desired.  7.  And  there  was  one  named  Barabbas,  which  lay  bound  with  them  that 
had  made  insurrection  with  him,  who  had  committed  murder  in  the  insurrection. 
8.  And  the  multitude  crying  aloud  began  to  desire  him  to  do  as  he  had  ever 
done  unto  them.  9.  But  Pilate  answered  them,  saying,  Will  ye  that  I  release  unto 
you  the  King  of  the  Jews  ?  10.  For  he  knew  that  the  chief  priests  had  delivered  Him 
for  envy.  11.  But  the  chief  priests  moved  the  people,  that  he  should  rather  release 
Barabbas  unto  them.  12.  And  Pilate  answered  and  said  again  unto  them.  What 
will  ye  then  that  I  shall  do  unto  Him  whom  ye  call  the  King  of  the  Jews?  13.  And 
they  cried  out  again.  Crucify  Him.  14.  Then  Pilate  said  unto  them.  Why,  what 
evil  hath  He  done  ?  And  they  cried  out  the  more  exceedingly.  Crucify  Him.  15. 
And  so  Pilate,  willing  to  content  the  people,  released  Barabbas  unto  them,  and 
delivered  Jesus,  when  he  had  scourged  Him,  to  be  crucified.  16.  And  the  soldiers 
led  Him  away  into  the  hall,  called  Prsetorium ;  and  they  call  together  the  whole 
band.  17.  And  they  clothed  Him  with  purple,  and  platted  a  crown  of  thorns,  and 
put  it  about  His  head,  18.  And  began  to  salute  Him,  Hail,  King  of  the  Jews  1  19. 
And  they  smote  Him  on  the  head  with  a  reed,  and  did  spit  upon  Him,  and  bowing 
their  knees  worshipped  Him.  20.  And  when  they  had  mocked  Him  they  took  off 
the  purple  from  Him,  and  put  His  own  clothes  on  Him,  and  led  TTim  out  to  crucify 
Him.'— Mark  xt.  1-20. 

The  so-called  trial  of  Jesus  by  the  rulers  turned  entirely 
on  his  claim  to  be  Messias ;  His  examination  by  Pilate 
turns  entirely  on  His  claim  to  be  king.  The  two  claims 
are  indeed  one,  but  the  political  aspect  is  distinguish- 
able from  the  higher  one ;  and  it  was  the  Jewish  rulers' 
trick  to  push  it  exclusively  into  prominence  before 
Pilate,  in  the  hope  that  he  might  see  in  the  claim  an 
incipient  insurrection,  and  might  mercilessly  stamp  it 
out.  It  was  a  new  part  for  them  to  play  to  hand  over 
leaders  of  revolt  to  the  Roman  authorities,  and  a 
governor  with  any  common  sense  must  have  suspected 
that  there  was  something  hid  below  such  unusual 
loyalty.    What  a  moment  of  degradation  and  of  treason 

21S 


220  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [oh.xv. 

against  Israel's  sacredest  hopes  that  was  when  its 
rulers  dragged  Jesus  to  Pilate  on  such  a  charge !  Mark 
follows  the  same  method  of  condensation  and  discard- 
ing of  all  but  the  essentials,  as  in  the  other  parts  of  his 
narrative.  He  brings  out  three  points — the  hearing 
before  Pilate,  the  popular  vote  for  Barabbas,  and  the 
soldiers'  mockery. 

I.  The  true  King  at  the  bar  of  the  apparent  ruler 
(verses  1-6).  The  contrast  between  appearance  and 
reality  was  never  more  strongly  drawn  than  when 
Jesus  stood  as  a  prisoner  before  Pilate.  The  One  is 
helpless,  bound,  alone  ;  the  other  invested  with  all  the 
externals  of  power.  But  which  is  the  stronger  ?  and 
in  which  hand  is  the  sceptre  ?  On  the  lowest  view  of 
the  contrast,  it  is  ideas  versus  swords.  On  the  higher 
and  truer,  it  is  the  incarnate  God,  mighty  because 
voluntarily  weak,  and  man  'dressed  in  a  little  brief 
authority,'  and  weak  because  insolently  '  making  his 
power  his  god.'  Impotence,  fancying  itself  strong, 
assumes  sovereign  authority  over  omnipotence  clothed 
in  weakness.  The  phantom  ruler  sits  in  judgment  on 
the  true  King.  Pilate  holding  Christ's  life  in  his  hand 
is  the  crowning  paradox  of  history,  and  the  mystery 
of  self-abasing  love.  One  exercise  of  the  Prisoner's 
will  and  His  chains  would  have  snapped,  and  the 
governor  lain  dead  on  the  marble  '  pavement.' 

The  two  hearings  are  parallel,  and  yet  contrasted. 
In  each  there  are  two  stages — the  self -at  testation  of 
Jesus  and  the  accusations  of  others ;  but  the  order  is 
different.  The  rulers  begin  with  the  witnesses,  and, 
foiled  there,  fall  back  on  Christ's  own  answer.  Pilate, 
with  Roman  directness  and  a  touch  of  contempt  for 
the  accusers,  goes  straight  to  the  point,  and  first 
questions  Jesus.    His  question  was  simply  as  to  our 


vs.  1-20]        CHRIST  AND  PILATE  221 

Lord's  regal  pretensions.  He  cared  nothing  about 
Jewish  '  superstitions  '  unless  they  threatened  political 
disturbance.  It  was  nothing  to  him  whether  or  no 
one  crazy  fanatic  more  fancied  himself  •  the  Messiah,' 
whatever  that  might  be.  Was  He  going  to  fight? — 
that  was  all  which  Pilate  had  to  look  after.  He  is  the 
very  type  of  the  hard,  practical  Roman,  with  a  *  prac- 
tical '  man's  contempt  for  ideas  and  sentiments,  sceptical 
as  to  the  possibility  of  getting  hold  of  '  truth,'  and  too 
careless  to  wait  for  an  answer  to  his  question  about  it ; 
loftily  ignorant  of  and  indifferent  to  the  notions  of  the 
troublesome  people  that  he  ruled,  but  alive  to  the  neces- 
sity of  keeping  them  in  good  humour,  and  unscrupulous 
enough  to  strain  justice  and  unhesitatingly  to  sacrifice 
so  small  a  thing  as  an  innocent  life  to  content  them. 

What  could  such  a  man  see  in  Jesus  but  a  harmless 
visionary?  He  had  evidently  made  up  his  mind  that 
there  was  no  mischief  in  Him,  or  he  would  not  have 
questioned  Him  as  to  His  kingship.  It  was  a  new 
thing  for  the  rulers  to  hand  over  dangerous  patriots, 
and  Pilate  had  experience  enough  to  suspect  that  such 
unusual  loyalty  concealed  something  else,  and  that 
if  Jesus  had  really  been  an  insurrectionary  leader,  He 
would  never  have  fallen  into  Pilate's  power.  Accord- 
ingly, he  gives  no  serious  attention  to  the  case,  and  his 
question  has  a  certain  half-amused,  half-pitying  ring 
about  it.  •  Thou  a  king  ? ' — poor  helpless  peasant !  A 
strange  specimen  of  royalty  this !  How  constantly  the 
same  blindness  is  repeated,  and  the  strong  things  of 
this  world  despise  the  weak,  and  material  power  smiles 
pityingly  at  the  helpless  impotence  of  the  principles 
of  Christ's  gospel,  which  yet  will  one  day  shatter  it  to 
fragments,  like  a  potter's  vessel !  The  phantom  ruler 
judges  the  real  King  to  be  a  powerless  shadow,  while 


222  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xv. 

himself  is  the  shadow  and  the  other  the  substance. 
There  are  plenty  of  Pilates  to-day  who  judge  and  mis- 
judge the  King  of  Israel. 

The  silence  of  Jesus  in  regard  to  the  eager  accusa- 
tions corresponds  to  His  silence  before  the  false  wit- 
nesses. The  same  reason  dictated  both.  His  silence  is 
His  most  eloquent  answer.  It  calmly  passes  by  all  these 
charges  by  envenomed  tongues  as  needing  no  reply, 
and  as  utterly  irrelevant.  Answered,  they  would  have 
lived  in  the  Gospels;  unanswered,  they  are  buried. 
Christ  can  afford  to  let  many  of  His  foes  alone.  Con- 
tradictions and  confutations  keep  slanders  and  heresies 
above  water,  which  the  law  of  gravitation  would  dis- 
pose of  if  they  were  left  alone. 

Pilate's  wonder  might  and  should  have  led  him 
further.  It  should  have  prompted  to  further  inquiry, 
and  that  might  have  issued  in  clearer  knowledge.  It 
was  the  little  glimmer  of  light  at  the  far-off  end  of 
his  cavern,  which,  travelled  towards,  might  have 
brought  him  into  free  air  and  broad  day.  One  great 
part  of  his  crime  was  neglecting  the  faint  monitions  of 
which  he  was  conscious.  His  light  may  have  been 
dim,  but  it  would  have  brightened;  and  he  quenched 
it.  He  stands  as  a  tremendous  example  of  possibilities 
missed,  and  of  the  tragedy  of  a  soul  that  has  looked  on 
Jesus,  and  has  not  yielded  to  the  impressions  made  on 
him  by  the  sight. 

II.  The  people's  favourite  (verses  7-15).  'Barabbas' 
means  '  son  of  the  father.'  His  very  name  is  a  kind  of 
caricature  of  the  *  Son  of  the  Blessed,'  and  his  character 
and  actions  present  in  gross  form  the  sort  of  Messias 
whom  the  nation  really  wanted.  He  had  headed  some 
one  of  the  many  small  riots  against  Rome  which  were 
perpetually  sputtering  up  and  being  trampled  out  by 


vs.  1-20]        CHRIST  AND  PILATE  223 

an  armed  heel.  There  had  been  bloodshed,  in  which 
he  had  himself  taken  part  ('  a  murderer,'  Acts  iii.  14). 
And  this  coarse,  red-handed  desperado  is  the  people's 
favourite,  because  he  embodied  their  notions  and 
aspirations,  and  had  been  bold  enough  to  do  v^hat 
every  man  of  them  would  have  done  if  he  had  dared. 
He  thought  and  felt,  as  they  did,  that  freedom  was 
to  be  won  by  the  sword.  The  popular  hero  is  as  a 
mirror  which  reflects  the  popular  mind.  He  echoes 
the  popular  voice,  a  little  improved  or  exaggerated. 
Jesus  had  taught  what  the  people  did  not  care  to  hear, 
and  given  blessings  which  even  the  recipients  soon 
forgot,  and  lived  a  life  whose  'beauty  of  holiness' 
oppressed  and  rebuked  the  common  life  of  men.  What 
chance  had  truth  and  kindness  and  purity  against 
the  sort  of  bravery  that  slashes  with  a  sword,  and  is 
not  elevated  above  the  mob  by  inconvenient  reach  of 
thought  or  beauty  of  character  ?  Even  now,  after  nine- 
teen centuries  of  Christ's  influence  have  modified  the 
popular  ideals,  what  chance  have  they  ?  Are  the  popular 
'heroes'  of  Christian  nations  saints,  teachers,  lovers 
of  men,  in  whom  their  Christ-likeness  is  the  thing 
venerated  ?  The  old  saying  that  the  voice  of  the  people 
is  the  voice  of  God  receives  an  instructive  commentary 
in  the  vote  for  Barabbas  and  against  Jesus.  That  was 
what  a  plebiscite  for  the  discovery  of  the  people's 
favourite  came  to.  What  a  reliable  method  of  finding 
the  best  man  universal  suffrage,  manipulated  by  wire- 
pullers like  these  priests,  is !  and  how  wise  the  people 
are  who  let  it  guide  their  judgments,  or  still  wiser, 
who  fret  their  lives  out  in  angling  for  its  approval! 
Better  be  condemned  with  Jesus  than  adopted  with 
Barabbas. 
That   fatal    choice    revealed    the   character   of    the 


224  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xv. 

choosers,  both  in  their  hostility  and  admiration ;  for 
excellence  hated  shows  what  we  ought  to  be  and  are 
not,  and  grossness  or  vice  admired  shows  what  we 
would  fain  be  if  we  dared.  It  was  the  tragic  sign  that 
Israel  had  not  learned  the  rudiments  of  the  lesson 
which  '  at  sundry  times  and  in  divers  manners '  God 
had  been  teaching  them.  In  it  the  nation  renounced  its 
Messianic  hopes,  and  with  its  own  mouth  pronounced 
its  own  sentence.  It  convicted  them  of  insensibility  to 
the  highest  truth,  of  blindness  to  the  most  effulgent 
light,  of  ingratitude  for  the  richest  gifts.  It  is  the 
supreme  instance  of  short-lived,  unintelligent  emotion, 
inasmuch  as  many  who  on  Friday  joined  in  the  roar, 
'  Crucify  Him ! '  had  on  Sunday  shouted  *  Hosanna  I '  till 
they  were  hoarse. 

Pilate  plays  a  cowardly  and  unrighteous  part  in  the 
affair,  and  tries  to  make  amends  to  himself  for  his 
politic  surrender  of  a  man  whom  he  knew  to  be 
innocent,  by  taunts  and  sarcasm.  He  seems  to  see  a 
chance  to  release  Jesus,  if  he  can  persuade  the  mob  to 
name  Him  as  the  prisoner  to  be  set  free,  according  to 
custom.  His  first  proposal  to  them  was  apparently 
dictated  by  a  genuine  interest  in  Jesus,  and  a  complete 
conviction  that  Rome  had  nothing  to  fear  from  this 
•  King.'  But  there  are  also  in  the  question  a  sneer  at 
such  pauper  royalty,  as  it  looked  to  him,  and  a  kind  of 
scornful  condescension  in  acknowledging  the  mob's 
right  of  choice.  He  consults  their  wishes  for  once,  but 
there  is  haughty  consciousness  of  mastery  in  his  way 
of  doing  it.  His  appeal  is  to  the  people,  as  against  the 
priests  whose  motives  he  had  penetrated.  But  in  his 
very  effort  to  save  Jesus  he  condemns  himself ;  for,  if 
he  knew  that  they  had  delivered  Christ  for  envy,  his 
plain  duty  was  to  set  the  prisoner  free,  as  innocent  of 


vs.  1-20]         CHRIST  AND  PILATE  225 

the  only  crime  of  which  he  ought  to  take  cognisance. 
So  his  attempt  to  shift  the  responsibility  off  his  own 
shoulders  is  a  piece  of  cowardice  and  a  dereliction  of 
duty.  His  second  question  plunges  him  deeper  in  the 
mire.  The  people  had  a  right  to  decide  which  was  to 
be  released,  but  none  to  settle  the  fate  of  Jesus.  To 
put  that  in  their  hands  was  an  unconditional  surrender 
by  Pilate,  and  the  sneer  in  '  whom  ye  call  the  King  of 
the  Jews'  is  a  poor  attempt  to  hide  from  them  and 
himself  that  he  is  afraid  of  them.  Mark  puts  his  finger 
on  the  damning  blot  in  Pilate's  conduct  when  he  says 
that  his  motive  for  condemning  Jesus  was  his  wish  to 
content  the  people.  The  life  of  one  poor  Jew  was  a 
small  price  to  pay  for  popularity.  So  he  let  policy 
outweigh  righteousness,  and,  in  spite  of  his  own  clear 
conviction,  did  an  innocent  man  to  death.  That  would 
be  his  reading  of  his  act,  and,  doubtless,  it  did  not 
trouble  his  conscience  much  or  long,  but  he  would 
leave  the  judgment-seat  tolerably  satisfied  with  his 
morning's  work.  How  little  he  knew  what  he  had 
done !  In  his  ignorance  lies  his  palliation.  His  crime 
was  great,  but  his  guilt  is  to  be  measured  by  his  light, 
and  that  was  small.  He  prostituted  justice  for  his  own 
ends,  and  he  did  not  follow  out  the  dawnings  of  light 
that  would  have  led  him  to  know  Jesus.  Therefore  he 
did  the  most  awful  thing  in  the  world's  history.  Let 
us  learn  the  lesson  which  he  teaches ! 

III.  The  soldiers'  mockery  (verses  16-20).  This  is 
characteristically  different  from  that  of  the  rulers, 
who  jeered  at  His  claim  to  supernatural  enlighten- 
ment, and  bade  Him  show  His  Messiahship  by  naming 
His  smiters.  The  rough  legionaries  knew  nothing 
about  a  Messiah,  but  it  seemed  to  them  a  good  jest  that 
this  poor,  scourged  prisoner  should  have  called  Himself 
VOL.  II.  p 


226  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xv. 

a  King,  and  so  they  proceed  to  make  coarse  and  clumsy 
merriment  over  it.  It  is  like  the  wild  bea»t  playing 
with  its  prey  before  killing  it.  The  laughter  is  not 
only  rough,  but  cruel.  There  was  no  pity  for  the 
Victim  '  bleeding  from  the  Roman  rods,'  and  soon  to 
die.  And  the  absence  of  any  personal  hatred  made 
this  mockery  more  hideous.  Jesus  was  nothing  to 
them  but  a  prisoner  whom  they  were  to  crucify,  and 
their  mockery  was  sheer  brutality  and  savage  delight 
in  torturing.  The  sport  is  too  good  to  be  kept  by  a 
few,  so  the  whole  band  is  gathered  to  enjoy  it.  How 
they  would  troop  to  the  place !  They  get  hold  of  some 
robe  or  cloth  of  the  imperial  colour,  and  of  some 
flexible  shoots  of  some  thorny  plant,  and  out  of  these 
they  fashion  a  burlesque  of  royal  trappings.  Then 
they  shout,  as  they  would  have  done  to  Caesar,  '  Hail, 
King  of  the  Jews  ! '  repeating  again  with  clumsy  itera- 
tion the  stale  jest  which  seems  to  them  so  exquisite. 
Then  their  mood  changes,  and  naked  ferocity  takes 
the  place  of  ironical  reverence.  Plucking  the  mock 
sceptre,  the  reed,  from  His  passive  hand,  they  strike 
the  thorn-crowned  Head  with  it,  and  spit  on  Him, 
while  they  bow  in  mock  reverence  before  Him,  and  at 
last,  when  tired  of  their  sport,  tear  off  the  purple,  and 
lead  him  away  to  the  Cross. 

If  we  think  of  who  He  was  who  bore  all  this,  and  of 
why  He  bore  it,  we  may  well  bow  not  the  knee  but 
the  heart,  in  endless  love  and  thankfulness.  If  we 
think  of  the  mockers — rude  Roman  soldiers,  who  pro- 
bably could  not  understand  a  word  of  what  they  heard 
on  the  streets  of  Jerusalem — we  shall  do  rightly  to 
remember  our  Lord's  own  plea  for  them,  'they  know 
not  what  they  do,'  and  reflect  that  many  of  us  with 
more  knowledge  do  really  sin  more  against  the  King 


vs.  1-20]        CHRIST  AND  PILATE  227 

than  they  did.  Their  insult  was  an  unconscious  pro- 
phecy. They  foretold  the  basis  of  His  dominion  by  the 
crown  of  thorns,  and  its  character  by  the  sceptre  of 
reed,  and  its  extent  by  their  mocking  salutations ;  for 
His  Kingship  is  founded  in  suffering,  wielded  with 
gentleness,  and  to  Him  every  knee  shall  one  day  bow, 
and  every  tongue  confess  that  the  King  of  the  Jews  is 
monarch  of  mankind. 


THE  DEATH  WHICH  GIVES  LIFE 

*  And  they  compel  one  Simon  a  Cyrenian,  who  passed  by,  coming  out  of  the 
country,  the  father  of  Alexander  and  Rufus,  to  bear  His  cross.  22.  And  they 
bring  Him  unto  the  place  Golgotha,  which  is,  being  interpreted.  The  place  of 
a  skull.  23.  And  they  gave  Him  to  drink  wine  mingled  with  myrrh:  but 
He  received  it  not.  24.  And  when  they  had  crucified  Him,  they  parted  His 
garments,  casting  lots  upon  them,  what  every  man  should  take.  25.  And  it  was 
the  third  hour,  and  they  crucified  Him.  26.  And  the  superscription  of  His 
accusation  was  written  over,  THE  KING  OF  THE  JEWS.  27.  And  with  Him 
they  crucify  two  thieves ;  the  one  on  His  right  hand,  and  the  other  on  His  left. 
28.  And  the  Scripture  was  fulfilled,  which  saith.  And  He  was  numbered  with  the 
transgressors.  29.  And  they  that  passed  by  railed  on  Him,  wagging  their  heads, 
and  saying.  Ah,  Thou  that  destroyest  the  temple,  and  buildestit  in  three  days,  30. 
Save  Thyself,  and  come  down  from  the  cross.  31.  Likewise  also  the  chief  priests 
mocking  said  among  themselves  with  the  scribes.  He  saved  others ;  Himself  He 
cannot  save.  32.  Let  Christ  the  King  of  Israel  descend  noW  from  the  cross,  that 
we  may  see  and  believe.  An  d  they  that  were  crucified  with  Him  reviled  Him. 
33.  And  when  the  sixth  hour  was  come,  there  was  darkness  over  the  whole  land 
until  the  ninth  hour.  34.  And  at  the  ninth  hour  Jesus  cried  with  a  loud  voice, 
saying,  Eloi,  Eloi,  lama  sabachthani?  which  is,  being  interpreted.  My  God,  My 
God,  why  hast  Thou  forsaken  Me  ?  35.  And  some  of  them  that  stood  by,  when  they 
heard  it,  said.  Behold,  He  calleth  Elias.  36.  And  one  ran  and  filled  a  spunge  full 
of  vinegar,  and  put  it  on  a  reed,  and  gave  Him  to  drink,  saying.  Let  alone ;  let  us 
see  whether  Elias  will  come  to  take  Him  down.  37.  And  Jesus  cried  with  a  loud 
voice,  and  gave  up  the  ghost.  38.  And  the  veil  of  the  temple  was  rent  in  twain 
from  the  top  to  the  bottom.  39.  And  when  the  centurion,  which  stood  over  against 
Him,  saw  that  He  so  cried  out,  and  gave  up  the  ghost,  he  said.  Truly  this  man 
was  the  Son  of  God.'— Mark  xv.  21-39. 

The  narrative  of  the  crucifixion  is,  in  Mark's  hands, 
almost  entirely  a  record  of  what  was  done  to  Jesus, 
and  scarcely  touches  what  was  done  by  Him.  We 
are  shown  the  executioners,  the  jeering  rabble,  the 
triumphant  priests,  the  fellow-sufferers  reviling;  but 
the  only  glimpses  we  get  of  Him  are  His  refusal  of  the 
stupefying  draught.  His  loud  cries,  and  His  giving  up 
the  ghost.  The  narrative  is  perfectly  calm,  as  well  as 
reverently  reticent.  It  would  have  been  well  if  our 
religious  literature  had  copied  the  example,  and  treated 
the  solemn  scene  in  the  same  fashion.  Mark's  inarti- 
ficial style  of  linking  long  paragraphs  with  the  simple 
'  and '  is  peculiarly  observable  here,  where  every  verse 


vs.  21-39]    DEATH  WHICH  GIVES  LIFE     229 

but  w.  30  and  32,  which  are  both  quotations,  begins  with 
it.  The  whole  section  is  one  long  sentence,  each  mem- 
ber of  which  adds  a  fresh  touch  to  the  tragic  picture. 
The  monotonous  repetition  of  '  and,' '  and,' '  and,'  gives 
the  effect  of  an  endless  succession  of  the  waves  of 
sorrow,  pain,  and  contumely  which  broke  over  that, 
sacred  head.  We  shall  do  best  simply  to  note  each 
billow  as  it  breaks. 

The  first  point  is  the  impressing  of  Simon  to  bear  the 
Cross.  That  was  not  dictated  by  compassion  so  much 
as  by  impatience.  Apparently  the  weight  was  too 
heavy  for  Jesus,  and  the  pace  could  be  quickened  by 
making  the  first  man  who  could  be  laid  hold  of  help  to 
carry  the  load.  Mark  adds  that  Simon  was  the  '  father 
of  Alexander  and  Ruf  us,'  whom  he  supposes  to  need  no 
introduction  to  his  readers.  There  is  a  Rufus  men- 
tioned in  Romans  xvi.  13  as  being,  with  his  mother, 
members  of  the  Roman  Church.  Mark's  Gospel  has 
many  traces  of  being  primarily  intended  for  Romans. 
Possibly  these  two  Ruf  uses  are  the  same;  and  the 
conjecture  may  be  allowable  that  the  father's  fortuitous 
association  with  the  crucifixion  led  to  the  conversion 
of  himself  and  his  family,  and  that  his  sons  were  of  more 
importance  or  fame  in  the  Church  than  he  was.  Per- 
haps, too,  he  is  the  'Simeon  called  Niger'  (bronzed  by 
the  hot  African  sun)  who  was  a  prophet  of  Antioch, 
and  stands  by  the  side  of  a  Cyrenian  (Acts  xiii.  1).  It 
is  singular  that  he  should  be  the  only  one  of  all  the 
actors  in  the  crucifixion  who  is  named;  and  the  fact 
suggests  his  subsequent  connection  with  the  Church. 
If  so,  the  seeking  love  of  God  found  him  by  a  strange 
way.  On  what  apparently  trivial  accidents  a  life  may 
be  pivoted,  and  how  much  may  depend  on  turning  to 
right  or  left  in  a  walk !     In  this  bewildering  network 


230  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.xv. 

of  interlaced  events,  which  each  ramifies  in  so  many 
directions,  the  only  safety  is  to  keep  fast  hold  of  God's 
hand,  and  to  take  good  care  of  the  purity  of  our  motives, 
and  let  results  alone. 

The  next  verse  brings  us  to  Golgotha,  which  is  trans- 
lated by  the  three  Evangelists,  who  give  it  as  meaning 
'  the  place  of  a  skull.'  The  name  may  have  been  given 
to  the  place  of  execution  with  grim  suggestiveness ; 
or,  more  probably,  Conder's  suggested  identification  is 
plausible,  which  points  to  a  little,  rounded,  skull-shaped 
knoll,  close  outside  the  northern  wall,  as  the  site  of 
the  crucifixion.  In  that  case,  the  name  would  origin- 
ally describe  the  form  of  the  height,  and  be  retained  as 
specially  significant  in  view  of  its  use  as  the  place  of 
execution.  That  was  the  'place'  to  which  Israel  led 
its  King !  The  place  of  death  becomes  a  place  of  life, 
and  from  the  mournful  soil  where  the  bones  of  evil- 
doers lay  bleaching  in  the  sun  springs  the  fountain  of 
water  of  life. 

Arrived  at  that  doleful  place,  a  small  touch  of  kind- 
ness breaks  the  monotony  of  cruelty,  if  it  be  not  merely 
a  part  of  the  ordinary  routine  of  executions.  The 
stupefying  potion  would  diminish,  but  would  therefore 
protract,  the  pain,  and  was  possibly  given  for  the  latter 
rather  than  the  former  effect.  But  Jesus  '  received  it 
not.'  He  will  not,  by  any  act  of  His,  lessen  the  bitter- 
ness. He  will  drink  to  the  dregs  the  cup  which  His 
Father  hath  given  Him,  and  therefore  He  will  not  drink 
of  the  numbing  draught.  It  is  a  small  matter  com- 
paratively, but  it  is  all  of  a  piece  with  the  greater 
things.  The  spirit  of  His  whole  course  of  voluntary, 
cheerful  endurance  of  all  the  sorrows  needful  to  redeem 
the  world,  is  expressed  in  His  silent  turning  away  from 
the  draught  which    might    have    alleviated    physical 


vs.  21  39]    DEATH  WHICH  GIVES  LIFE     231 

suffering,  but  at  the  cost  of  dulling  conscious 
surrender. 

The  act  of  crucifixion  is  but  named  in  a  subsidiary 
clause,  as  if  the  writer  turned  away,  with  eyes  veiled 
in  reverence,  from  the  sight  of  man's  utmost  sin  and 
Christ's  utmost  mystery  of  suffering  love.  He  can 
describe  the  attendant  circumstances,  but  his  pen 
refuses  to  dwell  upon  the  central  fact.  The  highest 
art  and  the  simplest  natural  feeling  both  know  that 
the  fewest  words  are  the  most  eloquent.  He  will  not 
expressly  mention  the  indignity  done  to  the  sacred 
Body  in  which  '  dwelt  all  the  fulness  of  the  Godhead,* 
but  leaves  it  to  be  inferred  from  the  parting  of  Christ's 
raiment,  the  executioner's  perquisite.  He  had  nothing 
else  belonging  to  Him,  and  of  even  that  poor  property 
He  is  spoiled.  According  to  John's  more  detailed 
account,  the  soldiers  made  an  equal  parting  of  His 
garments  except  the  seamless  robe,  for  which  they 
threw  lots.  So  the  '  parting '  applies  to  one  portion,  and 
the  '  casting  lots '  to  another.  The  incident  teaches  two 
things  :  on  the  one  hand,  the  stolid  indifference  of  the 
soldiers,  who  had  crucified  many  a  Jew,  and  went 
about  their  awful  work  as  a  mere  piece  of  routine  duty ; 
and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  depth  of  the  abasement  and 
shame  to  which  Jesus  bowed  for  our  sakes.  'Naked 
shall  I  return  thither'  was  true  in  the  most  literal 
sense  of  Him  whose  earthly  life  began  with  His 
laying  aside  His  garments  of  divine  glory,  and  ended 
with  rude  legionaries  parting  '  His  raiment '  among 
them. 

Mark  alone  tells  the  hour  at  which  Jesus  was  nailed 
to  the  Cross  (verse  25).  Matthew  and  Luke  specify  the 
sixth  and  ninth  hours  as  the  times  of  the  darkness  and 
of  the  death ;  but  to  Mark  we  owe  our  knowledge  of 


232  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xv. 

the  fact  that  for  six  slow  hours  Jesus  hung  there, 
tasting  death  drop  by  drop.  At  any  moment  of  all 
these  sorrow-laden  moments  He  could  have  come  down 
from  the  Cross,  if  He  would.  At  each,  a  fresh  exercise 
of  His  loving  will  to  redeem  kept  Him  there. 

The  writing  on  the  Cross  is  given  here  in  the  most 
condensed  fashion  (verse  26).  The  one  important  point 
is  that  His  •  accusation '  was — '  King  of  the  Jews.'  It 
was  the  official  statement  of  the  reason  for  His  cruci- 
fixion, put  there  by  Pilate  as  a  double-barrelled  sarcasm, 
hitting  both  Jesus  and  the  nation.  The  rulers  winced 
under  the  taunt,  and  tried  to  get  it  softened ;  but  Pilate 
sought  to  make  up  for  his  unrighteous  facility  in 
yielding  Jesus  to  death,  by  obstinacy  and  jeers.  So  the 
inscription  hung  there,  a  truth  deeper  than  its  author 
or  its  angry  readers  knew,  and  a  prophecy  which  has 
not  received  all  its  fulfilment  yet. 

The  narrative  comes  back,  in  verse  27,  to  the  sad 
catalogue  of  the  insults  heaped  on  Jesus.  Verse  28  is 
probably  spurious  here,  as  the  Revised  Version  takes  it 
to  be ;  but  it  truly  expresses  the  intention  of  the  cruci- 
fixion of  the  thieves  as  being  to  put  Him  in  the  same 
class  as  they,  and  to  suggest  that  He  was  a  ringleader, 
pre-eminent  in  evil.  Possibly  the  two  robbers  may 
have  been  part  of  Barabbas'  band,  who  had  been 
brigands  disguised  as  patriots ;  and,  if  so,  the  insult  was 
all  the  greater.  But,  in  any  case,  the  meaning  of  it 
was  to  bring  Him  down,  in  the  eyes  of  beholders,  to 
the  level  of  vulgar  criminals.  If  a  Cranmer  or  a 
Latimer  had  been  bound  to  the  stake  with  a  house- 
breaker or  a  cut-throat,  that  would  have  been  a  feeble 
image  of  the  malicious  contumely  thus  flung  at  Jesus ; 
but  His  love  had  identified  Him  with  the  worst 
sinners  in  a  far  deeper  and  more  real  way,  and  not  a 


vs.  21-39]    DEATH  WHICH  GIVES  LIFE     233 

crime  had  stained  these  men's  hands,  but  its  weight 
pressed  on  Him.  He  numbered  Himself  with  trans- 
gressors, that  they  may  be  numbered  with  His 
saints. 

Then  follows  (verses  29-32)  the  threefold  mockery  by 
people,  priests,  and  fellow-sufferers.  That  is  spread 
over  three  hours,  and  is  all  which  Mark  has  to  tell 
of  them.  Other  Evangelists  give  us  words  spoken  by 
Jesus ;  but  this  narrative  has  only  one  of  the  seven 
words  from  the  Cross,  and  gives  us  the  picture  rather 
of  the  silent  Sufferer,  bearing  in  meek  resolution  all  that 
men  can  lay  on  Him.  Both  pictures  are  true,  for  the 
words  are  too  few  to  make  notable  breaches  in  the 
silence.  The  mockery  harps  on  the  old  themes,  and 
witnesses  at  once  the  malicious  cruelty  of  the  mockers 
and  the  innocence  of  the  Victim,  at  whom  even  such 
malice  could  find  nothing  to  fling  except  these  stale 
taunts.  The  chance  passengers,  of  whom  there  would 
be  a  stream  to  and  from  the  adjacent  city  gate,  *wag 
their  heads '  in  gratified  and  fierce  hate.  The  calumny 
of  the  discredited  witnesses,  although  even  the  biased 
judges  had  not  dared  to  treat  it  as  true,  has  lodged  in 
the  popular  mind,  and  been  accepted  as  proved.  Lies 
are  not  killed  when  they  are  shown  to  be  lies.  They 
travel  faster  than  truth.  Ears  were  greedily  open 
for  the  false  witnesses'  evidence  which  had  been  closed 
to  Christ's  gracious  teaching.  The  charge  that  He  was 
a  would-be  destroyer  of  the  Temple  obliterated  all 
remembrance  of  miracles  and  benefits,  and  fanned  the 
fire  of  hatred  in  men  whose  zeal  for  the  Temple  was 
a  substitute  for  religion.  Are  there  any  of  them  left 
nowadays — people  who  have  no  real  heart-hold  of 
Christianity,  but  are  fiercely  antagonistic  to  supposed 
destroyers  of  its  externals,  and  not  over-particular  to 


234  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.xv. 

the  evidence  against  them?  These  mockers  thought 
that  Christ's  being  fastened  to  the  Cross  was  a  reductio 
ad  absurdum  of  His  claim  to  build  the  Temple.  How 
little  they  knew  that  it  led  straight  to  that  rebuilding, 
or  that  they,  and  not  He,  were  indeed  the  destroyers  of 
the  holy  house  which  they  thought  that  they  were 
honouring,  and  were  really  making  '  desolate ' ! 

The  priests  do  not  take  up  the  people's  mockery,  for 
they  know  that  it  is  based  upon  a  falsehood  ;  but  they 
scoff  at  His  miracles,  which  they  assume  to  be  disproved 
by  His  crucifixion.  Their  venomous  gibe  is  profoundly 
true,  and  goes  to  the  very  heart  of  the  gospel.  Pre- 
cisely because  '  He  saved  others,'  therefore  *  Himself 
He  cannot  save ' — not,  as  they  thought,  for  want  of 
power,  but  because  His  will  was  fixed  to  obey  the 
Father  and  to  redeem  His  brethren,  and  therefore  He 
must  die  and  cannot  deliver  Himself.  But  the  neces- 
sity and  inability  both  depend  on  His  will.  The  priests, 
however,  take  up  the  other  part  of  the  people's  scoff. 
They  unite  the  two  grounds  of  condemnation  in  the 
names  *  the  Christ,  the  King  of  Israel,'  and  think  that 
both  are  disproved  by  His  hanging  there.  But  the 
Cross  is  the  throne  of  the  King.  A  sacrificial  death  is 
the  true  work  of  the  Messiah  of  law,  prophecy,  and 
psalm ;  and  because  He  did  not  come  down  from  the 
Cross,  therefore  is  He  '  crowned  with  glory  and  honour' 
in  heaven,  and  rules  over  grateful  and  redeemed  hearts 
on  earth. 

The  midday  darkness  lasted  three  hours,  during 
which  no  word  or  incident  is  recorded.  It  was  nature 
divinely  draped  in  mourning  over  the  sin  of  sins,  the 
most  tragic  of  deaths.  It  was  a  symbol  of  the  eclipse 
of  the  Light  of  the  world ;  but  ere  He  died  it  passed, 
and  the  sun  shone  on  His  expiring  head,  in  token  that 


vs.  21-39]    DEATH  WHICH  GIVES  LIFE    235 

His  death  scattered  our  darkness  and  poured  day  on 
our  sad  night.  The  solemn  silence  was  broken  at  last 
by  that  loud  cry,  the  utterance  of  strangely  blended 
consciousness  of  possession  of  God  and  of  abandon- 
ment by  Him,  the  depths  of  which  we  can  never  fathom. 
But  this  we  know:  that  our  sins,  not  His,  wove  the 
veil  which  separated  Him  from  His  God.  Such  separa- 
tion is  the  real  death.  Where  cold  analysis  is  out  of 
place,  reverent  gratitude  may  draw  near.  Let  us 
adore,  for  what  we  can  understand  speaks  of  a  love 
which  has  taken  on  itself  the  iniquity  of  us  all.  Let 
us  silently  adore,  for  all  words  are  weaker  than  that 
mystery  of  love. 

The  first  hearers  of  that  cry  misunderstood  it,  or 
cruelly  pretended  to  do  so,  in  order  to  find  fresh  food 
for  mockery.  '  Eloi '  sounded  like  enough  to  '  Elijah ' 
to  suggest  to  some  of  the  flinty  hearts  around  a  travesty 
of  the  piteous  appeal.  They  must  have  been  Jews, 
for  the  soldiers  knew  nothing  about  the  prophet ;  and 
if  they  were  Scribes,  they  could  scarcely  fail  to  recog- 
nise the  reference  to  the  Twenty-second  Psalm,  and  to 
understand  the  cry.  But  the  opportunity  for  one  more 
cruelty  was  too  tempting  to  be  resisted,  and  savage 
laughter  was  man's  response  to  the  most  pitiful  prayer 
ever  uttered.  One  man  in  all  that  crowd  had  a  small 
touch  of  human  pity,  and,  dipping  a  sponge  in  the  sour 
drink  provided  for  the  soldiers,  reached  it  up  to  the 
parched  lips.  That  was  no  stupefying  draught,  and 
was  accepted.  Matthew's  account  is  more  detailed, 
and  represents  the  words  spoken  as  intended  to  hinder 
even  that  solitary  bit  of  kindness. 

The  end  was  near.  The  lips,  moistened  by  the 
•vinegar,'  opened  once  more  in  that  loud  cry  which 
both  showed  undiminished  vitality  and  conscious  vie- 


/ 


236  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xv. 

tory ;  and  then  He  •  gave  up  the  ghost,'  sending  away 
His  spirit,  and  dying,  not  because  the  prolonged  agony 
had  exhausted  His  energy,  but  because  He  chose  to  die. 
He  entered  through  the  gate  of  death  as  a  conqueror, 
and  burst  its  bars  when  He  went  in,  and  not  only  when 
He  came  out. 

His  death  rent  the  Temple  veil.  The  innermost 
chamber  of  the  Divine  Presence  is  open  now,  and 
sinful  men  have  'access  with  confidence  by  the  faith 
of  Him,'  to  every  place  whither  He  has  gone  before. 
Right  into  the  secret  of  God's  pavilion  we  can  go, 
now  and  here,  knowledge  and  faith  and  love  treading 
the  path  which  Jesus  has  opened,  and  coming  to  the 
Father  by  Him.  Right  into  the  blaze  of  the  glory  we 
shall  go  hereafter ;  for  He  has  gone  to  prepare  a  place 
for  us,  and  when  He  overcame  the  sharpness  of  death 
He  opened  the  gate  of  heaven  to  all  believers. 

Jews  looked  on,  unconcerned  and  unconvinced  by 
the  pathos  and  triumph  of  such  a  death.  But  the 
rough  soldier  who  commanded  the  executioners  had 
no  prejudices  or  hatred  to  blind  his  eyes  and  ossify  his 
heart.  The  sight  made  its  natural  impression  on  him ; 
and  his  exclamation,  though  not  to  be  taken  as  a 
Christian  confession  or  as  using  the  phrase  '  Son  of 
God'  in  its  deepest  meaning,  is  yet  the  beginning  of 
light.  Perhaps,  as  he  went  thoughtfully  to  his  barrack 
that  afternoon,  the  process  began  which  led  him 
at  last  to  repeat  his  first  exclamation  with  deepened 
meaning  and  true  faith.  May  we  all  gaze  on  that 
Cross,  with  fuller  knowledge,  with  firm  trust,  and 
endless  love  I 


SIMON  THE  OYRENIAN 

*  And  they  compel  one  Simon,  a  Cjrrenian,  who  passed  by,  coming  out  of  the 
oonntry,  the  father  of  Alexander  and  Rufus,  to  bear  His  Cross.'— Mark  xv.  21. 

How  little  these  soldiers  knew  that  they  were  making 
this  man  immortal!  What  a  strange  fate  that  is 
which  has  befallen  those  persons  in  the  Gospel  narra- 
tive, who  for  an  instant  came  into  contact  with  Jesus 
Christ.  Like  ships  passing  athwart  the  white  ghost- 
like splendour  of  moonlight  on  the  sea,  they  gleam 
silvery  pure  for  a  moment  as  they  cross  its  broad  belt, 
and  then  are  swallowed  up  again  in  the  darkness. 

This  man  Simon,  fortuitously,  as  men  say,  meeting 
the  little  procession  at  the  gate  of  the  city,  for  an 
instant  is  caught  in  the  radiance  of  the  light,  and 
stands  out  visible  for  evermore  to  all  the  world ;  and 
then  sinks  into  the  blackness,  and  we  know  no  more 
about  him.  This  brief  glimpse  tells  us  very  little,  and 
yet  the  man  and  his  act  and  its  consequences  may  be 
worth  thinking  about. 

He  was  a  Cyrenian  ;  that  is,  he  was  a  Jew  by  descent, 
probably  born,  and  certainly  resident,  for  purposes  of 
commerce,  in  Cyrene,  on  the  North  African  coast  of 
the  Mediterranean.  No  doubt  he  had  come  up  to 
Jerusalem  for  the  Passover;  and  like  very  many  of 
the  strangers  who  flocked  to  the  Holy  City  for  the 
feast,  met  some  difficulty  in  finding  accommodation  in 
the  city,  and  so  was  obliged  to  go  to  lodge  in  one  of 
the  outlying  villages.  From  this  lodging  he  is  coming 
in,  in  the  morning,  knowing  nothing  about  Christ  nor 
His  trial,  knowing  nothing  of  what  he  is  about  to  meet, 
and  happens  to  see  the  procession  as  it  is  passing  out 

837 


238  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xv. 

of  the  gate.  He  is  by  the  centurion  impressed  to  help  the 
fainting  Christ  to  carry  the  heavy  Cross.  He  probably 
thought  Jesus  a  common  criminal,  and  would  resent  the 
task  laid  upon  him  by  the  rough  authority  of  the  officer 
in  command.  But  he  was  gradually  touched  into  some 
kind  of  sympathy;  drawn  closer  and  closer,  as  we 
suppose,  as  he  looked  upon  this  dying  meekness ;  and 
at  last,  yielded  to  the  soul-conquering  power  of  Christ. 

Tradition  says  so,  and  the  reasons  for  supposing  that 
it  was  right  may  be  very  simply  stated.  The  descrip- 
tion of  him  in  our  text  as  '  the  father  of  Alexander  and 
Rufus '  shows  that,  by  the  time  when  Mark  wrote,  his 
two  sons  were  members  of  the  Christian  community, 
and  had  attained  some  eminence  in  it.  A  Rufus  is 
mentioned  in  the  salutations  in  Paul's  Epistle  to 
the  Romans,  as  being  '  elect  in  the  Lord,'  that  is  to 
say,  'eminent,'  and  his  mother  is  associated  in  the 
greeting,  and  commended  as  having  been  motherly  to 
Paul  as  well  as  to  Rufus.  Now,  if  we  remember  that 
Mark's  Gospel  was  probably  written  in  Rome,  and  for 
Roman  Christians,  the  conjecture  seems  a  very  reason- 
able one  that  the  Rufus  here  was  the  Rufus  of  the 
Epistle  to  the  Romans.  If  so,  it  would  seem  that  the 
family  had  been  gathered  into  the  fold  of  the  Church, 
and  in  all  probability,  therefore,  the  father  with  them. 

Then  there  is  another  little  morsel  of  possible  evi- 
dence which  may  just  be  noticed.  We  find  in  the  Acts 
of  the  Apostles,  in  the  list  of  the  prophets  and  teachers 
in  the  Church  at  Antioch,  a  '  Simon,  who  is  called 
Niger'  (that  is,  black,  the  hot  African  sun  having 
tanned  his  countenance,  perhaps),  and  side  by  side 
with  him  one  '  Lucius  of  Cyrene,'  from  which  place  we 
know  that  several  of  the  original  brave  preachers  to 
the  Gentiles  in  Antioch  came.    It  is  possible  that  this 


V.  21]  SIMON  THE  CYRENIAN  239 

may  be  our  Simon,  and  that  he  who  was  the  last  to 
join  the  band  of  disciples  during  the  Master's  life  and 
learned  courage  at  the  Cross  was  among  the  first  to 
apprehend  the  world-wide  destination  of  the  Gospel, 
and  to  bear  it  beyond  the  narrow  bounds  of  his  nation. 

At  all  events,  I  think  we  may,  with  something  like 
confidence,  believe  that  his  glimpse  of  Christ  on  that 
morning  and  his  contact  with  the  suffering  Saviour 
ended  in  his  acceptance  of  Him  as  his  Christ,  and  in  his 
bearing  in  a  truer  sense  the  Cross  after  Him. 

And  so  I  seek  now  to  gather  some  of  the  lessons  that 
seem  to  me  to  arise  from  this  incident. 

I.  First,  the  greatness  of  trifles.  If  Simon  had 
started  from  the  little  village  where  he  lodged  five 
minutes  earlier  or  later,  if  he  had  walked  a  little  faster 
or  slower,  if  he  had  happened  to  be  lodging  on  the 
other  side  of  Jerusalem,  or  if  the  whim  had  taken  him 
to  go  in  at  another  gate,  or  if  the  centurion's  eye  had 
not  chanced  to  alight  on  him  in  the  crowd,  or  if  the 
centurion's  fancy  had  picked  out  somebody  else  to 
carry  the  Cross,  then  all  his  life  would  have  been 
different.  And  so  it  is  always.  You  go  down  one 
turning  rather  than  another,  and  your  whole  career 
is  coloured  thereby.  You  miss  a  train,  and  you  escape 
death.  Our  lives  are  like  the  Cornish  rocking  stones, 
pivoted  on  little  points.  The  most  apparently  insig- 
nificant things  have  a  strange  knack  of  suddenly 
developing  unexpected  consequences,  and  turning  out 
to  be,  not  small  things  at  all,  but  great  and  decisive 
and  fruitful. 

Let  us  then  look  with  ever  fresh  wonder  on  this 
marvellous  contexture  of  human  life,  and  on  Him  that 
moulds  it  all  to  His  own  perfect  purposes.  Let  us 
bring  the  highest  and  largest  principles  to  bear  on  the 


240  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xv. 

smallest  events  and  circumstances,  for  you  can  never 
tell  which  of  these  is  going  to  turn  out  a  revolutionary 
and  formative  influence  in  your  life.  And  if  the  highest 
Christian  principle  is  not  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
trifles,  depend  upon  it,  it  will  never  be  brought  to  bear 
upon  the  mighty  things.  The  most  part  of  every  life  is 
made  up  of  trifles,  and  unless  these  are  ruled  by  the 
highest  motives,  life,  which  is  divided  into  grains  like 
the  sand,  will  have  gone  by,  while  we  are  waiting 
for  the  great  events  which  we  think  worthy  of  being 
regulated  by  lofty  principles.  '  Take  care  of  the  pence 
and  the  pounds  will  take  care  of  themselves.* 

Look  after  the  trifles,  for  the  law  of  life  is  like  that 
which  is  laid  down  by  the  Psalmist  about  the  Kingdom 
of  Jesus  Christ :  *  There  shall  be  a  handful  of  corn  in 
the  earth,'  a  little  seed  sown  in  an  apparently  ungenial 
place  ' on  the  top  of  the  mountains.'  Ay!  but  this  will 
come  of  it, '  The  fruit  thereof  shall  shake  like  Lebanon,' 
and  the  great  harvest  of  benediction  or  of  curse,  of  joy 
or  of  sorrow,  will  come  from  the  minute  seeds  that  are 
sown  in  the  great  trifles  of  our  daily  life. 

Let  us  learn  the  lesson,  too,  of  quiet  confidence  in 
Him  in  whose  hands  the  whole  puzzling,  overwhelming 
mystery  lies.  If  a  man  once  begins  to  think  of  how 
utterly  incalculable  the  consequences  of  the  smallest 
and  most  commonplace  of  his  deeds  may  be,  how  they 
may  run  out  into  all  eternity,  and  like  divergent  lines 
may  enclose  a  space  that  becomes  larger  and  wider  the 
further  they  travel ;  if,  I  say,  a  man  once  begins  to 
indulge  in  thoughts  like  these,  it  is  difficult  for  him  to 
keep  himself  calm  and  sane  at  all,  unless  he  believes  in 
the  great  loving  Providence  that  lies  above  all,  and 
shapes  the  vicissitude  and  mystery  of  life.  We  can 
leave  all  in  His  hands — and  if  we  are  wise  we  shall  do 


V.21]  SIMON  THE  CYRENIAN  241 

so — to  whom  great  and  small  are  terms  that  have  no 
meaning ;  and  who  looks  upon  men's  lives,  not  accord- 
ing to  the  apparent  magnitude  of  the  deeds  with  which 
they  are  filled,  but  simply  according  to  the  motive 
from  which,  and  the  purpose  towards  which,  these 
deeds  were  done. 

II.  Then,  still  further,  take  this  other  lesson,  which 
lies  very  plainly  here — the  blessedness  and  honour  of 
helping  Jesus  Christ.  If  we  turn  to  the  story  of  the 
Crucifixion,  in  John's  Gospel,  we  find  that  the  narra- 
tives of  the  three  other  Gospels  are,  in  some  points, 
supplemented  by  it.  In  reference  to  our  Lord's  bear- 
ing of  the  Cross,  we  are  informed  by  John  that  when 
He  left  the  judgment  hall  He  was  carrying  it  Himself, 
as  was  the  custom  with  criminals  under  the  Roman 
law.  The  heavy  cross  was  laid  on  the  shoulder,  at  the 
intersection  of  its  arms  and  stem,  one  of  the  arms 
hanging  down  in  front  of  the  bearer's  body,  and  the 
long  upright  trailing  behind. 

Apparently  our  Lord's  physical  strength,  sorely  tried 
by  a  night  of  excitement  and  the  hearings  in  the  High 
priest's  palace  and  before  Pilate,  as  well  as  by  the 
scourging,  was  unequal  to  the  task  of  carrying,  albeit 
for  that  short  passage,  the  heavy  weight.  And  there 
is  a  little  hint  of  that  sort  in  the  context.  In  the  verse 
before  my  text  we  read,  '  They  led  Jesus  out  to  crucify 
Him,'  and  in  the  verse  after,  *  they  bring,'  or  hear  '  Him 
to  the  place  Golgotha,'  as  if,  when  the  procession 
began,  they  led  Him,  and  before  it  ended  they  had  to 
carry  Him,  His  weakness  having  become  such  that 
He  Himself  could  not  sustain  the  weight  of  His  cross 
or  of  His  own  enfeebled  limbs.  So,  with  some  touch 
of  pity  in  their  rude  hearts,  or  more  likely  with  profes- 
sional impatience  of  delay,  and  eager  to  get  their  task 

VOL.  II.  Q 


242  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xv. 

over,  the  soldiers  lay  hold  of  this  stranger,  press  him 
into  the  service  and  make  him  carry  the  heavy  upright, 
which  trailed  on  the  ground  behind  Jesus.  And  so 
they  pass  on  to  the  place  of  execution. 

Very  reverently,  and  with  few  words,  one  would 
touch  upon  the  physical  weakness  of  the  Master.  Still, 
it  does  not  do  us  any  harm  to  try  to  realise  how  very 
marked  was  the  collapse  of  His  physical  nature,  and 
to  remember  that  that  collapse  was  not  entirely  owing 
to  the  pressure  upon  Him  of  the  mere  fact  of  physical 
death ;  and  that  it  was  still  less  a  failure  of  His  will, 
or  like  the  abject  cowardice  of  some  criminals  who 
have  had  to  be  dragged  to  the  scaffold,  and  helped  up 
its  steps  ;  but  that  the  reason  why  His  flesh  failed  was 
very  largely  because  there  was  laid  upon  Him  the 
mysterious  burden  of  the  world's  sin.  Christ's  de- 
meanour in  the  act  of  death,  in  such  singular  contrast 
to  the  calm  heroism  and  strength  of  hundreds  who 
have  drawn  all  their  heroism  and  strength  from  Him, 
suggests  to  us  that,  looking  upon  His  sufferings,  we 
look  upon  something  the  significance  of  which  does  not 
lie  on  the  surface  ;  and  the  extreme  pressure  of  which 
is  to  be  accounted  for  by  that  blessed  and  yet  solemn 
truth  of  prophecy  and  Gospel  alike — 'The  Lord  hath 
laid  on  Him  the  iniquity  of  us  all.' 

But,  apart  from  that,  which  does  not  enter  properly 
into  my  present  contemplations,  let  us  remember  that 
thoui^h  changed  in  form,  very  truly  and  really  in 
substance,  this  blessedness  and  honour  of  helping  Jesus 
Christ  is  given  to  us ;  and  is  demanded  from  us,  too, 
if  we  are  His  disciples.  He  is  despised  and  set  at 
nought  still.  He  is  crucified  afresh  still.  There  are 
many  men  in  this  day  who  scoff  at  Him,  mock  Him, 
deny  His  claims,  seek  to  cast  Him  down  from  His 


V.  21]  SIMON  THE  CYRENIAN  248 

throne,  rebel  against  His  dominion.  It  is  an  easy  thing 
to  be  a  disciple,  when  all  the  crowd  is  crying  '  Hosanna  ! ' 
It  is  a  much  harder  thing  to  be  a  disciple  when  the 
crowd,  or  even  when  the  influential  cultivated  opinion 
of  a  generation,  is  crying  *  Crucify  Him !  crucify  Him ! ' 
And  some  of  you  Christian  men  and  women  have  to 
learn  the  lesson  that  if  you  are  to  be  Christians  you 
must  be  Christ's  companions  when  His  back  is  at  the 
wall  as  well  as  when  men  are  exalting  and  honouring 
Him,  that  it  is  your  business  to  confess  Him  when 
men  deny  Him,  to  stand  by  Him  when  men  forsake 
Him,  to  avow  Him  when  the  avowal  is  likely  to  bring 
contempt  upon  you  from  some  people,  and  thus,  in  a 
very  real  sense,  to  bear  His  Cross  after  Him.  '  Let  us 
go  forth  unto  Him  without  the  camp,  bearing  His 
reproach ' ; — the  tail  end  of  His  Cross,  which  is  the 
lightest !  He  has  borne  the  heaviest  end  on  His  own 
shoulders ;  but  we  have  to  ally  ourselves  with  that 
suffering  and  despised  Christ  if  we  are  to  be  His 
disciples. 

I  do  not  dwell  upon  the  lesson  often  drawn  from 
this  story,  as  if  it  taught  us  to  'take  up  our  cross 
daily  and  follow  Him.'  That  is  another  matter,  and 
yet  is  closely  connected  with  that  about  which  I  speak ; 
but  what  I  say  is,  Christ's  Cross  has  to  be  carried 
to-day ;  and  if  we  have  not  found  out  that  it  has,  let 
us  ask  ourselves  if  we  are  Christians  at  all.  There  will 
be  hostility,  alienation,  a  comparative  coolness,  and 
absence  of  a  full  sense  of  sympathy  with  you,  in  many 
people,  if  you  are  a  true  Christian.  You  will  come  in 
for  a  share  of  contempt  from  the  wise  and  the  culti- 
vated of  this  generation,  as  in  all  generations.  The 
mud  that  is  thrown  after  the  Master  will  spatter  your 
faces  too,  to  some  extent ;  and  if  you  are  walking  with 


244  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xv. 

Him  you  will  be,  to  the  extent  of  your  communion 
with  Him,  objects  of  the  aversion  with  which  many 
men  regard  Him.  Stand  to  your  colours.  Do  not  be 
ashamed  of  Him  in  the  midst  of  a  crooked  and  perverse 
generation. 

And  there  is  yet  another  way  in  which  this  honour 
of  helping  the  Lord  is  given  to  us.  As  in  His  weak- 
ness He  needed  some  one  to  aid  Him  to  bear  His  Cross, 
so  in  His  glory  He  needs  our  help  to  carry  out  the  pur- 
poses for  which  the  Cross  was  borne.  The  paradox 
of  a  man's  carrying  the  Cross  of  Him  who  carried 
the  world's  burden  is  repeated  in  another  form.  He 
needs  nothing,  and  yet  He  needs  us.  He  needs  nothing, 
and  yet  He  needed  that  ass  which  was  tethered  at '  the 
place  where  two  ways  met,'  in  order  to  ride  into  Jeru- 
salem upon  it.  He  does  not  need  man's  help,  and  yet 
He  does  need  it,  and  He  asks  for  it.  And  though  He 
bore  Simon  the  Cyrenian's  sins  •  in  His  own  body  on 
the  tree,'  He  needed  Simon  the  Cyrenian  to  help  Him 
to  bear  the  tree,  and  He  needs  us  to  help  Him  to  spread 
throughout  the  world  the  blessed  consequences  of  that 
Cross  and  bitter  Passion.  So  to  us  all  is  granted  the 
honour,  and  from  us  all  are  required  the  sacrifice  and 
the  service,  of  helping  the  suffering  Saviour. 

III.  Another  of  the  lessons  which  may  very  briefly 
be  drawn  from  this  story  is  that  of  the  perpetual 
recompense  and  record  of  the  humblest  Christian 
work.  There  were  different  degrees  of  criminality, 
and  different  degrees  of  sympathy  with  Him,  if  I  may 
use  the  word,  in  that  crowd  that  stood  round  the 
Master.  The  criminality  varied  from  the  highest 
degree  of  violent  malignity  in  the  Scribes  and  Phari- 
sees, down  to  the  lowest  point  of  ignorance,  and  there- 
fore all  but  entire  innocence,  on  the  part  of  the  Roman 


V.  21]  SIMON  THE  CYRENIAN  245 

legionaries,  who  were  merely  the  mechanical  instru- 
ments of  the  order  given,  and  stolidly  *  watched  Him 
there,'  with  eyes  which  saw  nothing. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  were  all  grades  of  service, 
and  help  and  sympathy,  from  the  vague  emotions  of 
the  crowd  who  beat  their  breasts,  and  the  pity  of  the 
daughters  of  Jerusalem,  or  the  kindly-meant  help  of 
the  soldiers,  who  would  have  moistened  the  parched  lips, 
,  to  the  heroic  love  of  the  women  at  the  Cross,  whose 
ministry  was  not  ended  even  with  His  life.  But  surely 
the  most  blessed  share  in  that  day's  tragedy  was 
reserved  for  Simon,  whose  bearing  of  the  Cross  may 
have  been  compulsory  at  first,  but  became,  ere  it  was 
ended,  willing  service.  But  whatever  were  the  degrees 
of  recognition  of  Christ's  character,  and  of  sympathy 
with  the  meaning  of  His  sufferings,  yet  the  smallest 
and  most  transient  impulse  of  loving  gratitude  that 
went  out  towards  Him  was  rewarded  then,  and  is 
rewarded  for  ever,  by  blessed  results  in  the  heart  that 
feels  it. 

Besides  these  results,  service  for  Christ  is  recom- 
pensed, as  in  the  instance  before  us,  by  a  perpetual 
memorial.  How  little  Simon  knew  that  *  wherever  in 
the  whole  world  this  gospel  was  preached,  there  also, 
this  that  he  had  done  should  be  told  for  a  memorial 
of  himV  How  little  he  understood  when  he  went  back 
to  his  rural  lodging  that  night,  that  he  had  written  his 
name  high  up  on  the  tablet  of  the  world's  memory, 
to  be  legible  for  ever.  Why,  men  have  fretted  their 
whole  lives  away  to  win  what  this  man  won,  and  knew 
nothing  of — one  line  in  the  chronicle  of  fame. 

So  we  may  say,  it  shall  be  always,  •!  will  never  for- 
get any  of  their  works.'  We  may  not  leave  our  deeds 
inscribed  in  any  records  that  men   can  read.    What 


246  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK        [ch.  xv. 

of  that,  if  they  are  written  in  letters  of  light  in  the 
'  Lamb's  Book  of  Life,'  to  be  read  out  by  Him  before 
His  Father  and  the  holy  angels,  in  that  last  great  day  ? 
We  may  not  leave  any  separable  traces  of  our  services, 
any  more  than  the  little  brook  that  comes  down  some 
gulley  on  the  hillside  flows  separate  from  its  sisters, 
with  whom  it  has  coalesced,  in  the  bed  of  the  great 
river,  or  in  the  rolling,  boundless  ocean.  What  of  that 
so  long  as  the  work,  in  its  consequences,  shall  last? 
Men  that  sow  some  great  prairie  broadcast  cannot  go 
into  the  harvest-field  and  say,  *  I  sowed  the  seed  from 
which  that  ear  came,  and  you  the  seed  from  which  this 
one  sprang.'  But  the  waving  abundance  belongs  to 
them  all,  and  each  may  be  sure  that  his  work  survives 
and  is  glorified  there, — *  that  he  that  soweth  and  he  that 
reapeth  may  rejoice  together.'  So  a  perpetual  remem- 
brance is  sure  for  the  smallest  Christian  service. 

IV.  The  last  lesson  that  I  would  draw  is,  let  us  learn 
from  this  incident  the  blessed  results  of  contact  with 
the  suffering  Christ.  Simon  the  Cyrenian  apparently 
knew  nothing  about  Jesus  Christ  when  the  Cross  was 
laid  on  his  shoulders.  He  would  be  reluctant  to 
undertake  the  humiliating  task,  and  would  plod  along 
behind  Him  for  a  while,  sullen  and  discontented,  but 
by  degrees  be  touched  by  more  of  sympathy,  and  get 
closer  and  closer  to  the  Sufferer.  And  if  he  stood  by 
the  Cross  when  it  was  fixed,  and  saw  all  that  transpired 
there,  no  wonder  if,  at  last,  after  more  or  less  pro- 
tracted thought  and  search,  he  came  to  understand 
who  He  was  that  he  had  helped,  and  to  yield  himself 
to  Him  wholly. 

Yes !  dear  brethren,  Christ's  great  saying,  *  I,  if  I  be 
lifted  up,  will  draw  all  men  unto  Me,'  began  to  be 
fulfilled  when  He  began  to  be  lifted  up.  The  centurion. 


V.  21]  SIMON  THE  CYRENIAN  247 

the  thief,  this  man  Simon,  by  looking  on  the  Cross, 
learned  the  Crucified. 

And  it  is  the  only  way  by  which  any  of  us  will  ever 
learn  the  true  mystery  and  miracle  of  Christ's  great 
and  loving  Being  and  work.  I  beseech  you,  take  your 
places  there  behind  Him,  near  His  Cross ;  gazing  upon 
Him  till  your  hearts  melt,  and  you,  too,  learn  that  He 
is  your  Lord,  and  your  Saviour,  and  your  God.  The 
Cross  of  Jesus  Christ  divides  men  into  classes  as  the 
Last  Day  will.  It,  too,  parts  men — 'sheep'  to  the  right 
hand,  'goats'  to  the  left.  If  there  was  a  penitent,  there 
was  an  impenitent  thief ;  if  there  was  a  convinced 
centurion,  there  were  gambling  soldiers ;  if  there  were 
hearts  touched  with  compassion,  there  were  mockers 
who  took  His  very  agonies  and  flung  them  in  His  face 
as  a  refutation  of  His  claims.  On  the  day  when  that 
Cross  was  reared  on  Calvary  it  began  to  be  what  it 
has  been  ever  since,  and  is  at  this  moment  to  every 
soul  who  hears  the  Gospel,  '  a  savour  of  life  unto  life, 
or  of  death  unto  death.'  Contact  with  the  suffering 
Christ  will  either  bind  you  to  His  service,  and  fill  you 
with  His  Spirit,  or  it  will  harden  your  hearts,  and 
make  you  tenfold  more  selfish — that  is  to  say,  *  tenfold 
more  a  child  of  hell ' — than  you  were  before  you  saw 
and  heard  of  that  divine  meekness  of  the  suffering 
Christ.  Look  to  Him,  I  beseech  you,  who  bears  what 
none  can  help  Him  to  carry,  the  burden  of  the  world's 
sin.  Let  Him  bear  yours,  and  yield  to  Him  your 
grateful  obedience,  and  then  take  up  your  cross  daily 
and  bear  the  light  burden  of  self-denying  service  to 
Him  who  has  borne  the  heavy  load  of  sin  for  you  and 
all  mankind. 


THE  INCREDULOUS  DISCIPLES 

'And  when  the  sabbath  was  past,  Mary  Magdalene,  and  Mary  the  mother  of 
James,  and  Salome,  had  bought  sweet  spices,  that  they  might  come  and  anoint 
Him.  2.  And  very  early  in  the  morning,  the  first  day  of  the  week,  they  came  unto 
the  sepulchre  at  the  rising  of  the  sun.  3.  And  they  said  among  themselves.  Who 
shall  roll  us  away  the  stone  from  the  door  of  the  sepulchre?  4.  And  when  they 
looked,  they  saw  that  the  stone  was  rolled  away  :  for  it  was  very  great.  5.  And 
entering  into  the  sepulchre,  they  saw  a  young  man  sitting  on  the  right  side, 
clothed  in  a  long  white  garment;  and  they  were  affrighted.  6.  And  he  saith  unto 
them,  Be  not  afirighted  :  Ye  seek  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  which  was  crucified :  He  is 
risen  ;  He  is  not  here :  behold  the  place  where  they  laid  Him.  7.  But  go  your  way, 
tell  His  disciples  and  Peter  that  He  goeth  before  you  into  Galilee :  there  shall  ye 
see  Him,  as  He  said  unto  you.  8.  And  they  went  out  quickly,  and  fled  from  the 
sepulchre ;  for  they  trembled  and  were  amazed :  neither  said  they  anything  to 
any  man ;  for  they  were  afraid.  9.  Now,  when  Jesus  was  risen  early  the  first  day 
of  the  week.  He  appeared  first  to  Mary  Magdalene,  out  of  whom  He  had  cast  seven 
devils.  10.  And  she  went  and  told  them  that  had  been  with  Him,  as  they  mourned 
and  wept.  11.  And  they,  when  they  had  heard  that  He  was  alive,  and  had  been  seen 
of  her,  believed  not.  12.  After  that  He  appeared  in  another  form  unto  two  of  them, 
as  they  walked,  and  went  into  the  country.  13.  And  they  went  and  told  it  unto  the 
residue :  neither  believed  they  them.'— Mark  xvi.  1-13. 

It  is  not  my  business  here  to  discuss  questions  of  har- 
monising or  of  criticism.  I  have  only  to  deal  with  the 
narrative  as  it  stands.  Its  peculiar  character  is  very 
plain.  The  manner  in  which  the  first  disciples  learned 
the  fact  of  the  Resurrection,  and  the  disbelief  with 
which  they  received  it,  much  rather  than  the  Resur- 
rection itself,  come  into  view  in  this  section.  The 
disciples,  and  not  the  risen  Lord,  are  shown  us.  There 
is  nothing  here  of  the  earthquake,  or  of  the  descending 
angel,  or  of  the  terrified  guard,  or  of  our  Lord's  appear- 
ance to  the  women.  The  two  appearances  to  Mary 
Magdalene  and  to  the  travellers  to  Emmaus,  which,  in 
the  hands  of  John  and  Luke,  are  so  pathetic  and  rich, 
are  here  mentioned  with  the  utmost  brevity,  for  the 
sake  chiefly  of  insisting  on  the  disbelief  of  the  disciples 

Si8 


vs.  1-13]     INCREDULOUS  DISCIPLES        249 

who  heard  of  them.  Mark's  theme  is  mainly  what  they 
thought  of  the  testimony  to  the  Resurrection. 

I.  He  shows  us,  first,  bewildered  love  and  sorrow. 
We  leave  the  question  whether  this  group  of  women  is 
the  same  as  that  of  which  Luke  records  that  Joanna 
was  one,  as  well  as  the  other  puzzle  as  to  harmonising 
the  notes  of  time  in  the  Evangelists.  May  not  the 
difference  between  the  time  of  starting  and  that  of 
arrival  solve  some  of  the  difficulty?  "When  all  the 
notes  are  more  or  less  vague,  and  refer  to  the  time  of 
transition  from  dark  to  day,  when  every  moment 
partakes  of  both  and  may  be  differently  described  as 
belonging  to  either,  is  precision  to  be  expected?  In 
the  whirl  of  agitation  of  that  morning,  would  any  one 
beat  leisure  to  take  much  note  of  the  exact  minute? 
Are  not  these  *  discrepancies '  much  more  valuable  as 
confirmation  of  the  story  than  precise  accord  would 
have  been?  It  is  better  to  try  to  understand  the 
feelings  of  that  little  band  than  to  carp  at  such 
trifles. 

Sorrow  wakes  early,  and  love  is  impatient  to  bring 
its  tribute.  So  we  can  see  these  three  women,  leaving 
their  abode  as  soon  as  the  doleful  grey  of  morning  per- 
mitted, stealing  through  the  silent  streets,  and  reaching 
the  rock-cut  tomb  while  the  sun  was  rising  over  Olivet. 
Where  were  Salome's  ambitious  hopes  for  her  two  sons 
now?  Dead,  and  buried  in  the  Master's  grave.  The 
completeness  of  the  women's  despair,  as  well  as  the 
faithfulness  of  their  love,  is  witnessed  by  their  purpose. 
They  had  come  to  anoint  the  body  of  Him  to  whom  in 
life  they  had  ministered.  They  had  no  thought  of  a 
resurrection,  plainly  as  they  had  been  told  of  it.  The 
waves  of  sorrow  had  washed  the  remembrance  of  His 
assurances  on  that  subject  clean  out  of  their  minds. 


250  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xvi. 

Truth  that  is  only  half  understood,  however  plainly- 
spoken,  is  always  forgotten  when  the  time  to  apply  it 
comes.  We  are  told  that  the  disbelief  of  the  disciples 
in  the  Resurrection,  after  Christ's  plain  predictions  of 
it,  is  '  psychologically  impossible.'  Such  big  words  are 
imposing,  but  the  objection  is  shallow.  These  disciples 
are  not  the  only  people  who  forgot  in  the  hour  of  need 
the  thing  which  it  most  concerned  them  to  remember, 
and  let  the  clouds  of  sorrow  hide  starry  promises  which 
would  have  turned  mourning  into  dancing,  and  night 
into  day.  Christ's  sayings  about  His  resurrection  were 
not  understood  in  their,  as  it  appears  to  us,  obvious 
meaning  when  spoken.  No  wonder,  then,  that  they 
were  not  expected  to  be  fulfilled  in  their  obvious 
meaning  when  He  was  dead.  We  shall  have  a  word  to 
say  presently  about  the  value  of  the  fact  that  there 
was  no  anticipation  of  resurrection  on  the  part  of  the 
disciples.  For  the  present  it  is  enough  to  note  how 
these  three  loving  souls  confess  their  hopelessness  by 
their  errand.  Did  they  not  know,  too,  that  Joseph 
and  Nicodemus  had  been  beforehand  with  them  in  their 
labour  of  love?  Apparently  not.  It  might  easily 
happen,  in  the  confusion  and  dispersion,  that  no 
knowledge  of  this  had  reached  them;  or  perhaps 
sorrow  and  agitation  had  driven  it  out  of  their 
memories;  or  perhaps  they  felt  that,  whether  others 
had  done  the  same  before  or  no,  they  must  do  it  too, 
not  because  the  loved  form  needed  it,  but  because  their 
hearts  needed  to  do  it.  It  was  the  love  which  must 
serve,  not  calculation  of  necessity,  which  loaded  their 
hands  with  costly  spices.  The  living  Christ  was  pleased 
with  the  •  odour  of  a  sweet  smell, '  from  the  needless 
spices,  meant  to  re-anoint  the  dead  Christ,  and  accepted 
the  purpose,  though  it  came  from  ignbrance  and  was 


vs.  1-13]     INCREDULOUS  DISCIPLES        251 

never  carried  out,  since  its  deepest  root  was  love, 
genuine,  though  bewildered. 

The  same  absence  of  *  calm  practical  common  sense ' 
is  seen  in  the  too  late  consideration,  which  never 
occurred  to  the  three  women  till  they  were  getting 
near  the  tomb,  as  to  how  to  get  into  it.  They  do  not 
seem  to  have  heard  of  the  guard  ;  but  they  know  that 
the  stone  is  too  heavy  for  them  to  move,  and  none  of 
the  men  among  the  disciples  had  been  taken  into  their 
confidence.  '  Why  did  they  not  think  of  that  before  ? 
what  a  want  of  foresight ! '  says  the  cool  observer. 
'  How  beautifully  true  to  nature ! '  says  a  wiser  judg- 
ment. To  obey  the  impulse  of  love  and  sorrow  without 
thinking,  and  then  to  be  arrested  on  their  road  by  a 
difficulty,  which  they  might  have  thought  of  at  first, 
but  did  not  till  they  were  close  to  it,  is  surely  just  what 
might  have  been  expected  of  such  mourners.  Mark 
gives  a  graphic  picture  in  that  one  word  '  looking  up,' 
and  follows  it  with  picturesque  present  tenses.  They 
had  been  looking  down  or  at  each  other  in  perplexity, 
when  they  lifted  their  eyes  to  the  tomb,  which  was 
possibly  on  an  eminence.  What  a  flash  of  wonder 
would  pass  through  their  minds  when  they  saw  it  open  ! 
What  that  might  signify  they  would  be  eager  to  hurry 
to  find  out ;  but,  at  all  events,  their  difficulty  was  at  an 
end.  When  love  to  Christ  is  brought  to  a  stand  in  its 
venturous  enterprises  by  difficulties  occurring  for  the 
first  time  to  the  mind,  it  is  well  to  go  close  up  to  them ; 
and  it  often  happens  that  when  we  do,  and  look  steadily 
at  them,  we  see  that  they  are  rolled  away,  and  the 
passage  cleared  which  we  feared  was  hopelessly  barred. 

II.  The  calm  herald  of  the  Resurrection  and  the 
amazed  hearers.  Apparently  Mary  Magdalene  had 
turned  back  as  soon  as  she  saw  the  opened  tomb,  and 


252  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xvi. 

hurried  to  tell  that  the  body  had  been  carried  off,  as 
she  supposed.  The  guard  had  also  probably  fled  before 
this ;  and  so  the  other  two  women  enter  the  vestibule, 
and  there  find  the  angel.  Sometimes  one  angel,  some- 
times two,  sometimes  none,  were  visible  there.  The 
variation  in  their  numbers  in  the  various  narratives 
is  not  to  be  regarded  as  an  instance  of  *  discrepancy.' 
Many  angels  hovered  round  the  spot  where  the  greatest 
wonder  of  the  universe  was  to  be  seen,  '  eagerly  desir- 
ing to  look  into  '  that  grave.  The  beholder's  eye  may 
have  determined  their  visibility.  Their  number  may 
have  fluctuated.  Mark  does  not  use  the  word  '  angel ' 
at  all,  but  leaves  us  to  infer  what  manner  of  being  he 
was  who  first  proclaimed  the  Resurrection. 

He  tells  of  his  youth,  his  attitude,  and  his  attire.  The 
angelic  life  is  vigorous,  progressive,  buoyant,  and  alien 
from  decay.  Immortal  youth  belongs  to  them  who 
'  excel  in  strength,'  because  they  '  do  his  command- 
ments.' That  waiting  minister  shows  us  what  the 
children  of  the  Resurrection  shall  be,  and  so  his  pre- 
sence as  well  as  his  speech  expounds  the  blessed  mystery 
of  our  life  in  the  risen  Lord.  His  serene  attitude  of 
sitting  '  on  the  right  side '  is  not  only  a  vivid  touch 
of  description,  but  is  significant  of  restf  ulness  and  fixed 
contemplation,  ag  well  as  of  the  calmness  of  a  higher 
life.  That  still  watcher  knows  too  much  to  be  agitated ; 
but  the  less  he  is  moved,  the  more  he  adores.  His  quiet 
contrasts  with  and  heightens  the  impression  of  the 
storm  of  conflicting  feelings  in  the  w^omen's  tremulous 
natures.  His  garments  symbolise  purity  and  repose. 
How  sharply  the  difference  between  heaven  and  earth 
is  given  in  the  last  words  of  verse  5 !  They  were 
'amazed,'  swept  out  of  themselves  in  an  ecstasy  of 
bewilderment  in  which  hope  had   no  place.      Terror, 


vs.  1-13]     INCREDULOUS  DISCIPLES        253 

surprise,  curiosity,  wonder,  blank  incapacity  to  know 
what  all  this  meant,  made  chaos  in  them. 

The  angel's  words  are  a  succession  of  short  sentences, 
which  have  a  certain  dignity,  and  break  up  the  astound- 
ing revelation  he  has  to  make  into  small  pieces,  which 
the  women's  bewildered  minds  can  grasp.  He  calms 
their  tumult  of  spirit.  He  shows  them  that  he  knows 
their  errand.  He  adoringly  names  his  Lord  and  theirs 
by  the  names  recalling  His  manhood,  His  lowly  home, 
and  His  ignominious  death.  He  lingers  on  the  thought, 
to  him  covering  so  profound  a  mystery  of  divine  love, 
that  his  Lord  had  been  born,  had  lived  in  the  obscure 
village,  and  died  on  the  Cross.  Then,  in  one  word,  he 
proclaims  the  stupendous  fact  of  His  resurrection  as 
His  own  act — *  He  is  risen.'  This  crown  of  all  miracles, 
which  brings  life  and  immortality  to  light,  and  changes 
the  whole  outlook  of  humanity,  which  changes  the 
Cross  into  victory,  and  without  which  Christianity  is  a 
dream  and  a  ruin,  is  announced  in  a  single  word — the 
mightiest  ever  spoken  save  by  Christ's  own  lips.  It 
was  fitting  that  angel  lips  should  proclaim  the  Resur- 
rection, as  they  did  the  Nativity,  though  in  either  '  He 
taketh  not  hold  of  angels,'  and  they  had  but  a  second- 
ary share  in  the  blessings.  Yet  that  empty  grave  opened 
to  '  principalities  and  powers  in  heavenly  places  '  a  new 
unfolding  of  the  manifold  wisdom  and  love  of  God. 

The  angel — a  true  evangelist — does  not  linger  on  the 
wondrous  intimation,  but  points  to  the  vacant  place, 
which  would  have  been  so  drear  but  for  his  previous 
words,  and  bids  them  approach  to  verify  his  assurance, 
and  with  reverent  wonder  to  gaze  on  the  hallowed  and 
now  happy  spot.  A  moment  is  granted  for  feeling  to 
overflow,  and  certainty  to  be  attained,  and  then  the 
women  are  sent  on  their  errand.    Even  the  joy  of  that 


254  GOSPEL  OP  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xvi. 

gaze  is  not  to  be  selfishly  prolonged,  while  others  are 
sitting  in  sorrow  for  want  of  what  they  know.  That 
is  the  law  for  all  the  Christian  life.  First  make  sure 
work  of  one's  own  possession  of  the  truth,  and  then 
hasten  to  tell  it  to  those  who  need  it. 

'  And  Peter ' — Mark  alone  gives  us  this.  The  other 
Evangelists  might  pass  it  by  ;  but  how  could  Peter  ever 
forget  the  balm  which  that  message  of  pardon  and 
restoration  brought  to  him,  and  how  could  Peter's 
mouthpiece  leave  it  out  ?  Is  there  anything  in  the 
Gospels  more  beautiful,  or  fuller  of  long-sulfering  and 
thoughtful  love,  than  that  message  from  the  risen 
Saviour  to  the  denier?  And  how  delicate  the  love 
which,  by  calling  him  Peter,  not  Simon,  reinstates  him 
in  his  official  position  by  anticipation,  even  though  in 
the  subsequent  full  restoration  scene  by  the  lake  he  is 
thrice  called  Simon,  before  the  complete  effacement  of 
the  triple  denial  by  the  triple  confession ! 

Galilee  is  named  as  the  rendezvous,  and  the  word 
employed,  'goeth  before  you,'  is  appropriate  to  the 
Shepherd  in  front  of  His  flock.  They  had  been  '  scat- 
tered,' but  are  to  be  drawn  together  again.  He  is  to 
'  precede '  them  there,  thus  lightly  indicating  the  new 
form  of  their  relations  to  Him,  marked  during  the  forty 
days  by  a  distance  which  prepared  for  his  final  with- 
drawal. Galilee  was  the  home  of  most  of  them,  and 
had  been  the  field  of  His  most  continuous  labours. 
There  would  be  many  disciples  there,  who  would  gather 
to  see  their  risen  Lord  ('  five  hundred  at  once ') ;  and 
there,  rather  than  in  Jerusalem  which  had  slain  Him, 
was  it  fitting  that  He  should  show  Himself  to  His 
friends.  The  appearances  in  Jerusalem  were  all  within 
a  week  (if  we  except  the  Ascension),  and  the  connection 
in  which  Mark  introduces  them  (if  verse  14  be  his)  seems 


vs.  1-13]    INCREDULOUS  DISCIPLES        255 

to  treat  them  as  forced  on  Christ  by  the  disciples'  un- 
belief, rather  than  as  His  original  intention.  It  looks 
as  if  He  meant  to  show  Himself  in  the  city  only  to 
one  or  two,  such  as  Mary,  Peter,  and  some  others,  but 
to  reserve  His  more  public  appearance  for  Galilee. 

How  did  the  women  receive  the  message?  Mark 
represents  them  as  trembling  in  body  and  in  an  ecstasy 
in  mind,  and  as  hurrying  away  silent  with  terror. 
Matthew  says  that  they  were  full  of  'fear  and  great 
joy,'  and  went  in  haste  to  tell  the  disciples.  In  the 
whirl  of  feeling,  there  were  opposites  blended  or 
succeeding  one  another;  and  the  one  Evangelist  lays 
hold  of  one  set,  and  the  other  of  the  other.  It  is  as 
impossible  to  catalogue  the  swift  emotions  of  such  a 
moment  as  to  separate  and  tabulate  the  hues  of  sunrise. 
The  silence  which  Mark  tells  of  can  only  refer  to  their 
demeanour  as  they  '  fled.'  His  object  is  to  bring  out 
the  very  imperfect  credence  which,  at  the  best,  was 
given  to  the  testimony  that  Christ  was  risen,  and  to 
paint  the  tumult  of  feeling  in  the  breasts  of  its  first 
recipients.  His  picture  is  taken  from  a  different  angle 
from  Matthew's;  but  Matthew's  contains  the  same 
elements,  for  he  speaks  of  *  fear,'  though  he  completes 
it  by  '  joy.' 

III.  The  incredulity  of  the  disciples.  The  two 
appearances  to  Mary  Magdalene  and  the  travellers  to 
Emmaus  are  introduced  mainly  to  record  the  unbelief 
of  the  disciples.  A  strange  choice  that  was,  of  the 
woman  who  had  been  rescued  from  so  low  a  debase- 
ment, to  be  first  to  see  Him  !  But  her  former  degrada- 
tion was  the  measure  of  her  love.  Longing  eyes,  that 
have  been  washed  clean  by  many  a  tear  of  penitent 
gratitude,  are  purged  to  see  Jesus ;  and  a  yearning 
heart  ever  brings  Him  near.    The  unbelief  of  the  story 


256  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xvi. 

of  the  two  from  Emmaus  seems  to  conflict  with  Luke's 
account,  which  tells  that  they  were  met  by  the  news  of 
Christ's  appearance  to  Simon.  But  the  two  statements 
are  not  contradictory.  If  we  remember  the  excitement 
and  confusion  of  mind  in  which  they  were,  we  shall  not 
wonder  if  belief  and  unbelief  followed  each  other,  like 
the  flow  and  recoil  of  the  waves.  One  moment  they 
were  on  the  crest  of  the  billows,  and  saw  land  ahead ; 
the  next  they  were  down  in  the  trough,  and  saw  only 
the  melancholy  surge.  The  very  fact  that  Peter  was 
believed,  might  make  them  disbelieve  the  travellers; 
for  how  could  Jesus  have  been  in  Jerusalem  and 
Emmaus  at  so  nearly  the  same  time  ? 

However  the  two  narratives  be  reconciled,  it  remains 
obvious  that  the  first  disciples  did  not  believe  the  first 
witnesses  of  the  Resurrection,  and  that  their  unbelief 
is  an  important  fact.  It  bears  very  distinctly  on  the 
worth  of  their  subsequent  conviction.  It  has  special 
bearing  on  the  most  modern  form  of  disbelief  in  the 
Resurrection,  which  accounts  for  the  belief  of  the  first 
disciples  on  the  ground  that  they  expected  Christ  to 
rise,  and  that  they  then  persuaded  themselves,  in  all 
good  faith,  that  He  had  risen.  That  monstrous  theory 
is  vulnerable  at  all  points,  but  one  sufiicient  answer  is 
— the  disciples  did  not  expect  Christ  to  rise  again,  and 
were  so  far  from  it  that  they  did  not  believe  that  He 
had  risen  when  they  were  told  it.  Their  original  un- 
belief is  a  strong  argument  for  the  reliableness  of  their 
final  faith.  What  raised  them  from  the  stupor  of 
despair  and  incredulity?  Only  one  answer  is  'psycho- 
logically' reasonable :  they  at  last  belie  v^ed  because  they 
saw.  It  is  incredible  that  they  were  conscious  de- 
ceivers ;  for  such  lives  as  they  lived,  and  such  a  gospel 
as  they  preached,  never  came  from  liars.    It  is  as  in- 


vs.  1-13]      INCREDULOUS  DISCIPLES       257 

credible  that  they  were  unconsciously  mistaken;  for 
they  were  wholly  unprepared  for  the  Resurrection,  and 
sturdily  disbelieved  all  witnesses  for  it,  till  they  saw 
with  their  own  eyes,  and  had  *  many  infallible  proofs.' 
Let  us  be  thankful  for  their  unbelief  and  its  record, 
and  let  us  seek  to  possess  the  blessing  of  those  •  that 
have  not  seen,  and  yet  have  believed  I ' 


VOL.  n. 


PERPETUAL  YOUTH 

'And  entering  into  the  sepulchre,  they  Baw  a  young  man  sitting  on  the  right 
side,  clothed  in  a  long  white  garment.'— Mask  xvi.  5. 

Many  great  truths  concerning  Christ's  death,  and  its 
worth  to  higher  orders  of  being,  are  taught  by  the 
presence  of  that  angel  form,  clad  in  the  whiteness 
of  his  own  God-given  purity,  sitting  in  restful  con- 
templation in  the  dark  house  where  the  body  of  Jesus 
had  lain.  'Which  things  the  angels  desire  to  look 
into.'  Many  precious  lessons  of  consolation  and  hope, 
too,  lie  in  the  wonderful  words  which  he  spake  from 
his  Lord  and  theirs  to  the  weeping  waiting  women. 
But  to  touch  upon  these  ever  so  slightly  would  lead  us 
too  far  from  our  more  immediate  purpose. 

It  strikes  one  as  very  remarkable  that  this  super- 
human being  should  be  described  as  a  ^  young  man.' 
Immortal  youth,  with  all  of  buoyant  energy  and  fresh 
power  which  that  attribute  suggests,  belongs  to  those 
beings  whom  Scripture  faintly  shows  as  our  elder 
brethren.  No  waste  decays  their  strength,  no  change 
robs  them  of  forces  which  have  ceased  to  increase. 
For  them  there  never  comes  a  period  when  memory  is 
more  than  hope.  Age  cannot  wither  them.  As  one  of 
our  modern  mystics  has  said,  hiding  imaginative 
spiritualism  under  a  crust  of  hard,  dry  matter-of-fact, 
'  In  heaven  the  oldest  angels  are  the  youngest.' 

What  is  true  of  them  is  true  of  God's  children,  who 
are  'accounted  worthy  to  obtain  that  world  and  the 
resurrection  from  the  dead,'  for  '  they  are  equal  unto 
the  angels.'    For  believing  and  loving  souls,  death  too  is 

258 


V.5]  PERPETUAL  YOUTH  259 

a  birth.  All  who  pass  through  it  to  God,  shall,  in  deeper 
meaning  than  lay  in  the  words  at  first,  'return  unto 
the  days  of  their  youth ' ;  and  when  the  end  conies,  and 
they  are  *  clothed  with  their  house  from  heaven,'  they 
shall  stand  by  the  throne,  like  him  who  sat  in  the 
sepulchre,  clothed  with  lustrous  light  and  radiant  with 
unchanging  youth. 

Such  a  conception  of  the  condition  of  the  dead  in 
Christ  may  be  followed  out  in  detail  into  many  very 
elevating  and  strengthening  thoughts.  Let  me  attempt 
to  set  forth  some  of  these  now. 

I.  The  life  of  the  faithful  dead  is  eternal  progress 
towards  infinite  perfection. 

For  body  and  for  spirit  the  life  of  earth  is  a  definite 
whole,  with  distinct  stages,  which  succeed  each  other  in 
a  well-marked  order.  There  are  youth,  and  maturity, 
and  decay — the  slow  climbing  to  the  narrow  summit,  a 
brief  moment  there  in  the  streaming  sunshine,  and 
then  a  sure  and  gradual  descent  into  the  shadows 
beneath.  The  same  equable  and  constant  motion  urges 
the  orb  of  our  lives  from  morning  to  noon,  and  from 
noon  to  evening.  The  glory  of  the  dawning  day,  with 
its  golden  clouds  and  its  dewy  freshness,  its  new 
awakened  hopes  and  its  unworn  vigour,  climbs  by 
silent,  inevitable  stages  to  the  hot  noon.  But  its  ardours 
flame  but  for  a  moment ;  but  for  a  moment  does  the 
sun  poise  itself  on  the  meridian  line,  and  the  short 
shadow  point  to  the  pole.  The  inexorable  revolution 
goes  on,  and  in  due  time  come  the  mists  and  dying 
purples  of  evening  and  the  blackness  of  night.  The 
same  progress  which  brings  April's  perfumes  burns 
them  in  the  censer  of  the  hot  summer,  and  buries 
summer  beneath  the  falling  leaves,  and  covers  its  grave 
with  winter's  snow. 


260  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xvi. 

•  Everything  that  grows 
Holds  in  perfection  but  a  little  moment.* 

So  the  life  of  man,  being  under  the  law  of  growth, 
is,  in  all  its  parts,  subject  to  the  consequent  necessity 
of  decline.  And  very  swiftly  does  the  direction  change 
from  ascending  to  descending.  At  first,  and  for  a  little 
while,  the  motion  of  the  dancing  stream,  which  broadens 
as  it  runs,  and  bears  us  past  fields  each  brighter  and 
more  enamelled  with  flowers  than  the  one  before  it,  is 
joyous  ;  but  the  slow  current  becomes  awful  as  we  are 
swept  along  when  we  would  fain  moor  and  land — and 
to  some  of  us  it  comes  to  be  tragic  and  dreadful  at 
last,  as  we  sit  helpless,  and  see  the  shore  rush  past  and 
hear  the  roar  of  the  falls  in  our  ears,  like  some  poor 
wretch  caught  in  the  glassy  smoothness  above  Niagara, 
who  has  flung  down  the  oars,  and,  clutching  the  gun- 
wale with  idle  hands,  sits  effortless  and  breathless  till 
the  plunge  comes.  Many  a  despairing  voice  has  prayed 
as  the  sands  ran  out,  and  joys  fled,  '  Sun,  stand  thou 
still  on  Gibeon;  and  thou.  Moon,  in  the  valley  of 
Ajalon,'  but  in  vain.  Once  the  wish  was  answered; 
but,  for  all  other  fighters,  the  twelve  hours  of  the  day 
must  suffice  for  victory  and  for  joy.  Time  devours  his 
own  children.  The  morning  hours  come  to  us  with 
full  hands  and  give,  the  evening  hours  come  with 
empty  hands  and  take;  so  that  at  the  last  'naked 
shall  he  return  to  go  as  he  came.'  Our  earthly  life 
runs  through  its  successive  stages,  and  for  it,  in  body 
and  mind,  old  age  is  the  child  of  youth. 

But  the  perfect  life  of  the  dead  in  Christ  has  but 
one  phase,  youth.  It  is  growth  without  a  limit  and 
without  decline.  To  say  that  they  are  ever  young  is 
the  same  thing  as  to  say  that  their  being  never  reaches 
its  climax,  that  it  is  ever  but  entering  on  its  glory; 


V.  6]  PERPETUAL  YOUTH  261 

that  is,  as  we  have  said,  that  the  true  conception  of 
their  life  is  that  of  eternal  progress  towards  infinite 
perfection. 

For  what  is  the  goal  to  which  they  tend  ?  The  like- 
ness of  God  in  Christ — all  His  wisdom,  His  love,  His 
holiness.  He  is  all  theirs,  and  His  whole  perfection  is 
to  be  transfused  into  their  growing  greatness.  '  He  is 
made  unto  them  of  God,  wisdom,  and  righteousness, 
and  salvation  and  redemption,'  nor  can  they  cease  to 
grow  till  they  have  outgrown  Jesus  and  exhausted  God. 
On  the  one  hand  is  infinite  perfection,  destined  to  be 
imparted  to  the  redeemed  spirit.  On  the  other  hand 
is  a  capability  of  indefinite  assimilation  to,  by  recep- 
tion of,  that  infinite  perfection.  We  have  no  reason 
to  set  bounds  to  the  possible  expansion  of  the  human 
spirit.  If  only  there  be  fitting  circumstances  and  an 
adequate  impulse,  it  may  have  an  endless  growth. 
Such  circumstances  and  such  impulse  are  given  in  the 
loving  presence  of  Christ  in  glory.  Therefore  we  look 
for  an  eternal  life  which  shall  never  reach  a  point 
\eyond  which  no  advance  is  possible.  'The  path  of  the 
just '  in  that  higher  state  '  shineth  more  and  more,'  and 
never  touches  the  zenith.  Here  we  float  upon  a  land- 
locked lake,  and  on  every  side  soon  reach  the  bounding 
land ;  but  there  we  are  on  a  shoreless  ocean,  and  never 
hear  any  voice  that  says,  'Hitherto  shalt  thou  come, 
and  no  farther.'  Christ  will  be  ever  before  us,  the  yet 
unattained  end  of  our  desires;  Christ  will  be  ever 
above  us,  fairer,  wiser,  holier,  than  we ;  after  unsummed 
eternities  of  advance  there  will  yet  stretch  before  us  a 
shining  way  that  leads  to  Him.  The  language,  which 
was  often  breathed  by  us  on  earth  in  tones  of  plaintive 
confession,  will  be  spoken  in  heaven  in  gladness,  '  Not 
as  though  I  had  attained,  either  were  perfect,  but  I 


262  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xvi. 

follow  after.'  The  promise  that  was  spoken  by  Him 
in  regard  to  our  mortality  will  be  repeated  by  Him  in 
respect  to  our  celestial  being,  'I  am  come  that  they 
might  have  life,  and  that  they  might  have  it  more 
abundantly.'  And  as  this  advance  has  no  natural  limit, 
either  in  regard  to  our  Pattern  or  to  ourselves,  there 
will  be  no  reverse  direction  to  ensue.  Here  the  one 
process  has  its  two  opposite  parts;  the  same  impulse 
carries  up  to  the  summit  and  forces  down  from  it. 
But  it  is  not  so  then.  There  growth  will  never  merge 
into  decay,  nor  exacting  hours  come  to  recall  the  gifts, 
which  their  free-handed  sisters  gave. 

They  who  live  in  Christ,  beyond  the  grave,  begin 
with  a  relative  perfection.  They  are  thereby  rendered 
capable  of  more  complete  Christ-likeness.  The  eye,  by 
gazing  into  the  day,  becomes  more  recipient  of  more 
light ;  the  spirit  cleaves  closer  to  a  Christ  more  fully 
apprehended  and  more  deeply  loved  ;  the  whole  being, 
like  a  plant  reaching  up  to  the  sunlight,  grows  by  its 
yearning  towards  the  light,  and  by  the  light  towards 
which  it  yearns — lifts  a  stronger  stem  and  spreads  a 
broader  leaf,  and  opens  into  immortal  flowers  tinted 
by  the  sunlight  with  its  own  colours.  This  blessed 
and  eternal  growth  towards  Him  whom  we  possess,  to 
begin  with,  and  never  can  exhaust,  is  the  perpetual 
youth  of  God's  redeemed. 

We  ought  not  to  think  of  those  whom  we  have  loved 
and  lost  as  if  they  had  gone,  carrying  with  them  de- 
clining powers,  and  still  bearing  the  marks  of  this  in- 
evitable law  of  stagnation,  and  then  of  decay,  under 
which  they  groaned  here.  Think  of  them  rather  as 
having,  if  they  sleep  in  Jesus,  reversed  all  this,  as 
having  carried  with  them,  indeed,  all  the  gifts  of 
matured  experience  and  ripened  wisdom  which  the 


V.  5]  PERPETUAL  YOUTH  S63 

slow  years  bring,  but  likewise  as  having  left  behind 
all  the  weariness  of  accomplished  aims,  the  monotony 
of  a  formed  character,  the  rigidity  of  limbs  that  have 
ceased  to  grow.  Think  of  them  as  receiving  again 
from  the  hands  of  Christ  much  of  which  they  were 
robbed  by  the  lapse  of  years.  Think  of  them  as  then 
crowned  with  loving-kindness  and  satisfied  with  good, 
so  that '  their  youth  is  renewed  like  the  eagle's.'  Think 
of  them  as  again  joyous,  with  the  joy  of  beginning  a 
career,  which  has  no  term  but  the  sum  of  all  perfection 
in  the  likeness  of  the  infinite  God.  They  rise  like  the 
song-bird,  aspiring  to  the  heavens,  circling  round,  and 
ever  higher,  which  '  singing  still  doth  soar,  and  soaring 
ever  singeth ' — up  and  up  through  the  steadfast  blue 
to  the  sun !  *  Even  the  youths  shall  faint  and  be 
weary,  and  the  young  men  shall  utterly  fall ;  but  they 
that  wait  upon  the  Lord  shall  renew  their  strength.' 
They  shall  lose  the  marks  of  age  as  they  grow  in 
eternity,  and  they  who  have  stood  before  the  throne 
the  longest  shall  be  likest  him  who  sat  in  the  sepulchre 
young  with  immortal  strength,  radiant  with  unwither- 
ing  beauty. 

II.  The  life  of  the  faithful  dead  recovers  and  retains 
the  best  characteristics  of  youth. 

Each  stage  of  our  earthly  course  has  its  own  peculiar 
characteristics,  as  each  zone  of  the  world  has  its  own 
vegetation  and  animal  life.  And,  for  the  most  part, 
these  characteristics  cannot  be  anticipated  in  the  pre- 
ceding stage,  nor  prolonged  into  the  succeeding.  To 
some  small  extent  they  will  bear  transplanting,  and 
he  is  nearest  a  perfect  man  who  carries  into  each 
period  of  his  life  some  trace  of  the  special  beauty  of 
that  which  went  before,  making  '  the  child  the  father 
of  the  man,'  and  carrying  deep  into  old  age  the  simple 


264.  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xvi. 

self-forgetfulneas  of  the  child  and  the  energy  of  the 
youth.  But  this  can  only  be  partially  done  by  any 
effort ;  and  even  those  whose  happily  constituted 
temperaments  make  it  comparatively  easy  for  them, 
do  often  carry  the  weakness  rather  than  the  strength 
of  the  earlier  into  the  later  epochs.  It  is  easier  to  be 
always  childish  than  to  be  always  childlike.  The 
immaturity  and  heedlessness  of  youth  bear  carriage 
better  than  the  more  precious  vintages  of  that  sunny 
land — its  freshness  of  eye  and  heart,  its  openness  of 
mind,  its  energy  of  hand.  Even  when  these  are  in  any 
measure  retained — beautiful  as  they  are  in  old  age — 
they  are  but  too  apt  to  be  associated  with  an  absence 
of  the  excellences  more  proper  to  the  later  stages  of 
life,  and  to  involve  a  want  of  patient  judgment,  of 
sagacious  discrimination,  of  rooted  affections,  of 
prudent,  persistent  action.  Beautiful  indeed  it  is 
when  the  grace  of  the  child  and  the  strength  of  the 
young  man  live  on  in  the  fathers,  and  when  the  last  of 
life  encloses  all  that  was  good  in  all  that  went  before. 
But  miserable  it  is,  and  quite  as  frequent  a  case,  when 
grey  hairs  cover  a  childish  brain,  and  an  aged  heart 
throbs  with  the  feverish  passion  of  youthful  blood. 
So  for  this  life  it  is  difficult,  and  often  not  well,  that 
youth  should  be  prolonged  into  manhood  and  old  age. 

But  the  thought  is  none  the  less  true,  that  the  per- 
fection of  our  being  requires  the  reappearance  and  the 
continuance  of  all  that  was  good  in  each  successive 
stage  of  it  in  the  past.  The  brightest  aspects  of  youth 
will  return  to  all  who  live  in  Jesus,  beyond  the  grave, 
and  will  be  theirs  for  ever.  Such  a  consideration 
branches  out  into  many  happy  anticipations,  which  we 
can  but  very  cursorily  touch  on  here. 

For  instance— Youth  is  the  time  for  hope.    The  world 


V.  5]  PERPETUAL  YOUTH  265 

then  lies  all  before  us,  fair  and  untried.  We  have  not 
learnt  our  own  weakness  by  many  failures,  nor  the 
dread  possibilities  that  lie  in  every  future.  The  past  is 
too  brief  to  occupy  us  long,  and  its  furthest  point  too 
near  to  be  clothed  in  the  airy  purple,  which  draws  the 
eye  and  stirs  the  heart.  We  are  conscious  of  increas- 
ing powers  which  crave  for  occupation.  It  seems  im- 
possible but  that  success  and  joy  shall  be  ours.  So  we 
live  for  a  little  while  in  a  golden  haze ;  we  look  down 
from  our  peak  upon  the  virgin  forests  of  a  new  world, 
that  roll  away  to  the  shining  waters  in  the  west,  and 
then  we  plunge  into  their  mazes  to  hew  out  a  path 
for  ourselves,  to  slay  the  wild  beasts,  and  to  find  and 
conquer  rich  lands.  But  soon  we  discover  what  hard 
work  the  march  is,  and  what  monsters  lurk  in  the  leafy 
coverts,  and  what  diseases  hover  among  the  marshes, 
and  how  short  a  distance  ahead  we  can  see,  and  how  far 
off  it  is  to  the  treasure-cities  that  we  dreamed  of ;  and 
if  at  last  we  gain  some  cleared  spot  whence  we  can 
look  forward,  our  weary  eyes  are  searching  at  most 
for  a  place  to  rest,  and  all  our  hopes  have  dwindled  to 
hopes  of  safety  and  repose.  The  day  brings  too  much 
toil  to  leave  us  leisure  for  much  anticipation.  The 
journey  has  had  too  many  failures,  too  many  wounds, 
too  many  of  our  comrades  left  to  die  in  the  forest 
glades,  to  allow  of  our  expecting  much.  We  plod  on, 
sometimes  ready  to  faint,  sometimes  with  lighter 
hearts,  but  not  any  more  winged  by  hope  as  in  the 
golden  prime, — unless  indeed  for  those  of  us  who  have 
fixed  our  hopes  on  God,  and  so  get  through  the  march 
better,  because,  be  it  rough  or  smooth,  long  or  short, 
He  moves  before  us  to  guide,  and  all  our  ways  lead  to 
Him.  But  even  for  these  there  comes,  before  very 
long,  a  time  when  they  are  weary  of  hoping  for  much 


266  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xvi. 

more  here,  and  when  the  light  of  youth  fades  into  com- 
mon day.  Be  it  so !  They  will  get  the  faculty  and  the 
use  of  it  back  again  in  far  nobler  fashion,  when  death 
has  taken  them  away  from  all  that  is  transient,  and 
faith  has  through  death  given  for  their  possession 
and  their  expectation,  the  certitudes  of  eternity.  It 
will  be  worth  while  to  look  forward  again,  when  we 
are  again  standing  at  the  beginning  of  a  life.  It  will 
be  possible  once  more  to  hope,  when  disappointments 
are  all  past.  A  boundless  future  stretching  before  us, 
of  which  we  know  that  it  is  all  blessed,  and  that  we 
shall  reach  all  its  blessedness,  will  give  back  to  hearts 
that  have  long  ceased  to  drink  of  the  delusive  cup 
which  earthly  hope  offered  to  their  lips,  the  joy  of 
living  in  a  present,  made  bright  by  the  certain  antici- 
pation of  a  yet  brighter  future.  Losing  nothing  by 
our  constant  progress,  and  certain  to  gain  all  which  we 
foresee,  we  shall  remember  and  be  glad,  we  shall  hope 
and  be  confident.  "With  *the  past  unsighed  for,  and 
the  future  sure,'  we  shall  have  that  magic  gift,  which 
earth's  disappointments  dulled,  quickened  by  the  sure 
mercies  of  the  heavens. 

Again,  youth  has  mostly  a  certain  keenness  of  relish 
for  life  which  vanishes  only  too  soon.  There  are 
plenty  of  our  young  men  and  women  too,  of  this  day, 
no  doubt,  who  are  as  blas^  and  wearied  before  they 
are  out  of  their  'teens  as  if  they  were  fifty.  So  much 
the  sadder  for  them,  so  much  the  worse  for  the  social 
state  which  breeds  such  monsters.  For  monsters  they 
are:  there  ought  to  be  in  youth  a  sense  of  fresh 
wonder  undimmed  by  familiarity,  the  absence  of 
satiety,  a  joy  in  joyful  things  because  they  are  new 
as  well  as  gladsome.  The  poignancy  of  these  early 
delights  cannot  long  survive.    Custom  stales  them  all, 


V.6]  PERPETUAL  YOUTH  267 

and  wraps  everything  in  its  robe  of  ashen  grey.  We 
get  used  to  what  was  once  so  fresh  and  wonderful, 
and  do  not  care  very  much  about  anything  any  more. 
We  smile  pitying  smiles — sadder  than  any  tears — at 
•boyish  enthusiasm,'  and  sometimes  plume  ourselves 
on  having  come  to  '  years  which  bring  the  philosophic 
mind';  and  all  the  while  we  know  that  we  have  lost 
a  great  gift,  which  here  can  never  come  back  any 
more. 

But  what  if  that  eager  freshness  of  delight  may  yet 
be  ours  once  again  ?  What  if  the  eternal  youth  of  the 
heavens  means,  amongst  other  things,  that  there  are 
pleasures  which  always  satisfy  but  never  cloy  ?  What 
if,  in  perpetual  advance,  we  find  and  keep  for  ever 
that  ever  new  gladness,  which  here  we  vainly  seek  in 
perpetual  distraction  ?  What  if  constant  new  influxes 
of  divine  blessedness,  and  constant  new  visions  of  God, 
keep  in  constant  exercise  that  sense  of  wonder,  which 
makes  so  great  a  part  of  the  power  of  youth  ?  What 
if,  after  all  that  we  have  learned  and  all  that  we  have 
received,  we  still  have  to  say, '  It  doth  not  yet  appear 
what  we  shall  be '  ?  Then,  I  think,  in  very  profound 
and  blessed  sense,  heaven  would  be  perpetual  youth. 

I  need  not  pause  to  speak  of  other  characteristics  of 
that  period  of  life — such  as  its  enthusiasm,  its  life  by 
impulse  rather  than  by  reason,  its  buoyant  energy  and 
delight  in  action.  All  these  gifts,  so  little  cared  for 
when  possessed,  so  often  misused,  so  irrevocably  gone 
with  a  few  brief  years,  so  bitterly  bewailed,  will  surely 
be  found  again,  where  God  keeps  all  the  treasures  that 
He  gives  and  we  let  fall.  For  transient  enthusiasm, 
heaven  will  give  us  back  a  fervour  of  love  like  that  of 
the  seraphs,  that  have  burned  before  His  throne  un- 
consumed  and  undecaying  for  unknown  ages.     For  a 


268  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xvl 

life  of  instinctive  impulse,  we  shall  then  receive  a  life 
in  which  impulse  is  ever  parallel  with  the  highest  law, 
and,  doing  only  what  we  would,  we  shall  do  only  what 
we  ought.  For  energy  which  wanes  as  the  years  wax, 
and  delight  in  action  which  is  soon  worn  down  into 
mechanical  routine  of  toil,  there  will  be  bestowed 
strength  akin  to  His  'who  fainteth  not,  neither  is 
weary.'  All  of  which  maturity  and  old  age  robbed  us 
is  given  back  in  nobler  form.  All  the  limitation  and 
weakness  which  they  brought,  the  coldness,  the  mono- 
tony, the  torpor,  the  weariness,  will  drop  away.  But  we 
shall  keep  all  the  precious  things  which  they  brought 
us.  None  of  the  calm  wisdom,  the  ripened  knowledge, 
the  full-summed  experience,  the  powers  of  service 
acquired  in  life's  long  apprenticeship,  will  be  taken 
from  us. 

All  will  be  changed  indeed.  All  will  be  cleansed  of 
the  impurity  which  attaches  to  all.  AU  will  be  accepted 
and  crowned,  not  by  reason  of  its  goodness,  but  by 
reason  of  Christ's  sacrifice,  which  is  the  channel  of 
God's  mercy.  Though  in  themselves  unworthy,  and 
having  nothing  fit  for  the  heavens,  yet  the  souls  that 
trust  in  Jesus,  the  Lord  of  Life,  shall  bear  into  their 
glory  the  characters  which  by  His  grace  they  wrought 
out  here  on  earth,  transfigured  and  perfected,  but  still 
the  same.  And  to  make  up  that  full-summed  com- 
pleteness, will  be  given  to  them  at  once  the  perfection 
of  all  the  various  stages  through  which  they  passed 
on  earth.  The  perfect  man  in  the  heavens  will  include 
the  graces  of  childhood,  the  energies  of  youth,  the 
steadfastness  of  manhood,  the  calmness  of  old  age ;  as 
on  some  tropical  trees,  blooming  in  more  fertile  soil 
and  quickened  by  a  hotter  sun  than  ours,  you  may  see 
at  once  bud,  blossom,  and  fruit — the    expectancy  of 


V.  5]  PERPETUAL  YOUTH  269 

spring,  and  the  maturing  promise  of  summer,  and  the 
fulfilled  fruition  of  autumn — hanging  together  on  the 
unexhausted  bough. 

III.  The  faithful  dead  shall  live  in  a  body  that  cannot 
grow  old. 

Scripture  assures  us,  I  believe,  that  the  dead  in 
Christ  are  now  in  full,  conscious  enjoyment  of  His 
presence,  and  of  all  the  blessedness  that  to  dwell  in 
Christ  can  bring  to  a  spirit.  All,  then,  which  we  have 
been  saying  applies  to  the  present  condition  of  those 
who  sleep  in  Jesus.  As  concerning  toil  and  trouble 
they  take  rest  in  sleep,  as  concerning  contact  with  an 
outer  world  they  slumber  untroubled  by  its  noise ;  but 
as  concerning  their  communion  with  their  Lord  they, 
like  us,  *  whether  we  wake  or  sleep,  live  together  with 
Him.'  But  we  know  too,  from  Scripture,  that  the  dead 
in  Christ  wait  for  the  resurrection  of  the  body,  without 
which  they  cannot  be  perfected,  nor  restored  to  full 
activity  of  outward  life  in  connection  with  an  external 
creation. 

The  lesson  which  we  venture  to  draw  from  this  text 
enforces  the  familiar  teaching  of  Scripture  as  to  that 
body  of  glory — that  it  cannot  decay,  nor  grow  old.  In 
this  respect,  too,  eternal  youth  may  be  ours.  Here 
we  have  a  bodily  organisation  which,  like  all  other 
living  bodies,  goes  through  its  appointed  series  of 
changes,  wastes  in  effort,  and  so  needs  reparation  by 
food  and  rest,  dies  in  growing,  and  finally  waxes  old 
and  dissolves.  In  such  a  house,  a  man  cannot  be  ever 
young.  The  dim  eye  and  shaking  hand,  the  wrinkled 
face  and  thin  grey  hairs  cannot  but  age  the  spirit,  since 
they  weaken  its  instruments. 

If  the  redeemed  of  the  Lord  are  to  be  always  young 
in  spirit,   they  must  have  a  body  which   knows  no 


270  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.xvi. 

weariness,  whicli  needs  no  repose,  which  has  no  neces- 
sity of  dying  impressed  upon  it.  And  such  a  body 
Scripture  plainly  tells  us  will  belong  to  those  who  are 
Christ's,  at  His  coming.  Our  present  acquaintance 
with  the  conditions  of  life  makes  that  great  promise 
seem  impossible  to  many  learned  men  amongst  us. 
And  I  know  not  that  anything  but  acquaintance  with 
the  sure  word  of  God  and  with  a  risen  Lord  will  make 
that  seeming  impossibility  again  a  great  promise  for 
us.  If  we  believe  it  at  all,  I  think  we  must  believe  it 
because  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ  says  so,  and 
because  the  Scriptures  put  it  into  articulate  words  as 
the  promise  of  His  resurrection.  '  Ye  do  err,'  said 
Christ  long  ago,  to  those  who  denied  a  resurrection, 
'not  knowing  the  Scriptures  nor  the  power  of  God.' 
Then  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  leads  to  belief  in  the 
resurrection  of  the  dead,  and  the  remembrance  of  our 
ignorance  of  the  power  of  God  disposes  of  all  the 
doubts  which  are  raised  on  the  supposition  that  His 
present  works  are  the  pattern  of  His  future  ones,  or 
the  limits  of  His  unexhausted  energy. 

We  are  content  then  to  fall  back  on  Scripture  words, 
and  to  believe  in  the  resurrection  of  the  dead  simply 
because  it  is,  as  we  believe,  told  us  from  God. 

For  all  who  accept  the  message,  this  hope  shines 
clear,  of  a  building  of  God  imperishable  and  solid,  when 
contrasted  with  the  tent  in  which  we  dwell  here — of 
a  body  '  raised  in  incorruption,'  '  clothed  with  im- 
mortality,' and  so,  as  in  many  another  phrase,  declared 
to  be  exempt  from  decay,  and  therefore  vigorous  with 
unchanging  youth.  How  that  comes  we  cannot  tell. 
Whether  because  that  body  of  glory  has  no  proclivity 
to  mutation  and  decay,  or  whether  the  perpetual  voli- 
tion  and  power    of    God    counteract    such    tendency 


V.5]  PERPETUAL  YOUTH  271 

and  give,  as  the  Book  of  Revelation  says,  •  to  eat  of  the 
tree  of  life  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  paradise  of 
God' — matters  not  at  all.  The  truth  of  the  promise 
remains,  though  we  have  no  means  of  knowing  more 
than  the  fact,  that  we  shall  receive  a  body,  fashioned  like 
His  who  dieth  no  more.  There  shall  be  no  weariness 
nor  consequent  need  for  repose — 'they  rest  not  day 
nor  night.'  There  shall  be  no  faintness  nor  consequent 
craving  for  sustenance — '  they  shall  hunger  no  more 
neither  thirst  any  more.'    There  shall  be  no  disease — 

*  the  inhabitant  thereof  shall  no  more  say,  I  am  sick,' 

•  neither  can  they  die  any  more,  for  they  are  equal  unto 
the  angels.' 

And  if  all  this  is  true,  that  glorious  and  undecaying 
body  will  then  be  the  equal  and  fit  instrument  of  the 
perfected  spirit,  not,  as  it  is  now,  the  adequate  instru- 
ment only  of  the  natural  life.  The  deepest  emotions 
then  will  be  capable  of  expression,  nor  as  now,  like 
some  rushing  tide,  choke  the  floodgates  through  whose 
narrow  aperture  they  try  to  press,  and  be  all  tossed 
into  foam  in  the  attempt.  We  shall  then  seem  what 
we  are,  as  we  shall  also  be  what  we  ought.  All  outward 
things  will  then  be  fully  and  clearly  communicated  to 
the  spirit,  for  that  glorious  body  will  be  a  perfect 
instrument  of  knowledge.  All  that  we  desire  to  do  we 
shall  then  do,  nor  be  longer  tortured  with  tremulous 
hands  which  can  never  draw  the  perfect  circle  that  we 
plan,  and  stammering  lips  that  will  not  obey  the  heart, 
and  throbbing  brain  that  will  ache  when  we  would 
have  it  clear.  The  ever -young  spirit  will  have  for 
true  yokefellow  a  body  that  cannot  tire,  nor  grow 
old,  nor  die. 

The  aged  saints  of  God  shall  rise  then  in  youthful 
beauty.    More  than  the  long- vanished  comeliness  shall 


272  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xvi. 

on  that  day  rest  on  faces  that  were  here  haggard  with 
anxiety,  and  pinched  with  penury  and  years.  There 
will  be  no  more  palsied  hands,  no  more  scattered  grey 
hairs,  no  more  dim  and  horny  eyes,  no  more  stiffened 
muscles  and  slow  throbbing  hearts.  'It  is  sown  in 
weakness,  it  is  raised  in  power.'  It  is  sown  in  decaying 
old  age,  it  is  raised  in  immortal  youth.  His  servants 
shall  stand  in  that  day  among  '  the  young-eyed  cheru- 
bim,' and  be  like  them  for  ever.  So  we  may  think  of 
the  dead  in  Christ. 

But  do  not  forget  that  Christian  faith  may  largely 
do  for  us  here  what  God'a  grace  and  power  will  do 
for  us  in  heaven,  and  that  even  now  we  may  possess 
much  of  this  great  gift  of  perpetual  youth.  If  we  live 
for  Christ  by  faith  in  Him,  then  may  we  carry  with 
us  all  our  days  the  energy,  the  hope,  the  joy  of  the 
morning  tide,  and  be  children  in  evil  while  men  in 
understanding.  With  unworn  and  fresh  heart  we  may 
'bring  forth  fruit  in  old  age,'  and  have  the  crocus  in  the 
autumnal  fields  as  well  as  in  the  spring-time  of  our 
lives.  So  blessed,  we  may  pass  to  a  peaceful  end, 
because  we  hold  His  hand  who  makes  the  path  smooth 
and  the  heart  quiet.  Trust  yourselves,  my  brethren, 
to  the  immortal  love  and  perfect  work  of  the  Divine 
Saviour,  and  by  His  dear  might  your  days  will  advance 
by  peaceful  stages,  whereof  each  gathers  up  and  carries 
forward  the  blessings  of  all  that  went  before,  to  a 
death  which  shall  be  a  birth.  Its  chill  waters  will 
be  as  a  fountain  of  youth  from  which  you  will  rise, 
beautiful  and  strong,  to  begin  an  immortality  of  grow- 
ing power.  A  Christian  life  on  earth  solves  partly, 
a  Christian  life  in  heaven  solves  completely,  the  pro- 
blem of  perpetual  youth.  For  those  who  die  in  His 
faith  and  fear,  *  better  is  the  end  than  the  beginning, 


V.  5]  PERPETUAL  YOUTH  273 

and  the  day  of  one's  death  than  the  day  of  one's 
birth.'  Christ  keeps  the  good  wine  until  the  close  of 
the  feast. 

*  Such  is  Thy  banquet,  dearest  Lord ; 

O  give  us  grace,  to  cast 
Our  lot  with  Thine,  to  trust  Thy  word. 

And  keep  our  best  till  last.' 


VOL.  n. 


THE  ANGEL  IN  THE  TOMB 

• . .  ,  They  saw  a  young  man  sitting  on  the  right  side,  clothed  In  a  long  white 
garment ;  and  they  were  afii-ighted.  6.  And  he  saith  unto  them,  Be  not  affrighted. 
Ye  seek  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  which  was  crucified :  He  is  risen ;  He  is  not  here : 
behold  the  place  where  they  laid  Him.'— Mark  zvi.  5,  6. 

Each  of  the  four  Evangelists  tells  the  story  of  the 
Resurrection  from  his  own  special  point  of  view.  None 
of  them  has  any  record  of  the  actual  fact,  because  no 
eye  saw  it.  Before  the  earthquake  and  the  angelic 
descent,  before  the  stone  was  rolled  away,  while  the 
guards  perhaps  slept,  and  before  Love  and  Sorrow  had 
awakened,  Christ  rose.  And  deep  silence  covers  the 
event.  But  in  treating  of  the  subsequent  portion  of 
the  narrative,  each  Evangelist  stands  at  his  own  point 
of  view.  Mark  has  scarcely  anything  to  say  about  our 
Lord's  appearance  after  the  Resurrection.  His  object 
seems  mainly  to  be  to  describe  rather  the  manner  in 
which  the  report  of  the  Resurrection  affected  the  dis- 
ciples, and  so  he  makes  prominent  the  bewildered 
astonishment  of  the  women.  If  the  latter  part  of  this 
chapter  be  his,  he  passes  by  the  appearance  of  our 
Lord  to  Mary  Magdalene  and  to  the  two  travellers  to 
Emmaus  with  just  a  word  for  each — contrasting  singu- 
larly with  the  lovely  narrative  of  the  former  in  John's 
Gospel  and  with  the  detailed  account  of  the  latter  in 
Luke's.  He  emphasises  the  incredulity  of  the  Twelve 
after  receiving  the  reports,  and  in  like  manner  he 
lays  stress  upon  the  unbelief  and  hardness  of  heart 
which  the  Lord  rebuked. 

So,  then,  this  incident,  the  appearance  of  the  angel, 
the  portion  of  his  message  to  the  women  which  we 

S74 


vs.  5, 6]    THE  ANGEL  IN  THE  TOMB        275 

have  read,  and  the  way  in  which  the  first  testimony  to 
the  Resurrection  affected  its  hearers,  may  suggest  to 
us  some  thoughts  which,  though  subsidiary  to  the 
main  teaching  of  the  Resurrection,  may  yet  be  im- 
portant in  their  place. 

I.  Note  the  first  witness  to  the  Resurrection. 

There  are  singular  diversities  in  the  four  Gospels  in 
their  accounts  of  the  angelic  appearances,  the  number, 
occupation,  and  attitude  of  these  superhuman  persons ; 
and  contradictions  may  be  spun,  if  one  is  so  disposed, 
out  of  these  varieties.  But  it  is  wiser  to  take  another 
view  of  them,  and  to  see  in  the  varying  reports,  some- 
times of  one  angel,  sometimes  of  two,  sometimes  of  one 
sitting  outside  the  sepulchre,  sometimes  one  within, 
sometimes  none,  either  different  moments  of  time  or 
differences  produced  by  the  different  spiritual  condition 
of  the  beholders.  Who  can  count  the  glancing  wings 
of  the  white- winged  flock  of  sea-birds  as  they  sail  and 
turn  in  the  sunshine  ?  Who  can  count  the  numbers  of 
these  '  bright-harnessed  angels,'  sometimes  more,  some- 
times less,  flickering  and  fluttering  into  and  out  of 
sight,  which  shone  upon  the  vision  of  the  weeping 
onlookers?  We  know  too  little  about  the  laws  of 
angelic  appearances;  we  know  too  little  about  the 
relation  in  that  high  region  between  the  seeing  eye 
and  the  objects  beheld  to  venture  to  say  that  there 
is  contradiction  where  the  narratives  present  variety. 
Enough  for  us  to  draw  the  lessons  that  are  suggested 
by  that  quiet  figure  sitting  there  in  the  inner  vestibule 
of  the  grave,  the  stone  rolled  away  and  the  work  done, 
gazing  on  the  tomb  where  the  Lord  of  men  and  angels 
had  lain. 

He  was  a  youth.  *  The  oldest  angels  are  the  youngest,' 
says  a  great  mystic.     The  angels  'excel  in  strength* 


276  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.xvi. 

because  they  *  delight  to  do  His  commandments,  heark- 
ening unto  the  voice  of  His  word.'  The  lapse  of  ages 
brings  not  age  to  them  who  *  wait  on  the  Lord '  in  the 
higher  ministries  of  heaven,  and  run  unwearied,  and 
walk  unfainting,  and  when  they  are  seen  by  men  are 
radiant  with  immortal  youth.  He  was  'clothed  in  a 
long  white  garment,'  the  sign  at  once  of  purity  and  of 
repose  ;  and  he  was  sitting  in  rapt  contemplation  and 
quiet  adoration  there,  where  the  body  of  Jesus  had 
lain. 

But  what  had  he  to  do  with  the  joy  of  Resurrection  ? 
It  delivered  him  from  no  fears,  it  brought  to  him  no 
fresh  assurance  of  a  life  which  was  always  his.  Where- 
fore was  he  there?  Because  that  Cross  strikes  its 
power  upwards  as  well  as  downwards ;  because  He 
that  had  lain  there  is  the  Head  of  all  creation,  and 
the  Lord  of  angels  as  well  as  of  men;  because  that 
Resurrection  following  upon  that  Cross,  *  unto  the 
principalities  and  powers  in  heavenly  places,'  opened 
a  new  and  wonderful  door  into  the  unsounded  and 
unfathomed  abyss  of  divine  love;  because  into  these 
things  '  angels  desire  to  look,'  and,  looking,  are  smitten 
with  adoring  wonder  and  flushed  with  the  illumination 
of  a  new  knowledge  of  what  God  is,  and  of  what  man 
is  to  God.  The  Resurrection  of  the  Prince  of  Life  was 
no  mystery  to  the  angel.  To  him  the  mystery  was  in 
His  death.  To  us  the  death  is  not  a  mystery,  but  the 
Resurrection  is.  That  gazing  figure  looks  from  the 
other  side  upon  the  grave  which  we  contemplate  from 
this  side  of  the  gulf  of  death;  but  the  eyes  of  both 
orders  of  Being  fix  upon  the  same  hallowed  spot — they 
in  adoring  wonder  that  there  a  God  should  have  lain ; 
we  in  lowly  thankfulness  that  thence  a  man  should 
have  risen. 


vs.  6,  6]     THE  ANGEL  IN  THE  TOMB      277 

Further,  we  see  in  that  angel  presence  not  only  the 
indication  that  Christ  is  his  King  as  well  as  ours,  but 
also  the  mark  of  his  and  all  his  fellows'  sympathetic 
participation  in  whatsoever  is  of  so  deep  interest  to 
humanity.  There  is  a  certain  tone  of  friendship  and 
oneness  in  his  words.  The  trembling  women  were 
smitten  into  an  ecstasy  of  bewildered  fear  (as  one  of 
the  words,  '  affrighted,'  might  more  accurately  be  ren- 
dered), and  his  consolation  to  them,  '  Be  not  affrighted, 
ye  seek  Jesus,'  suggests  that,  in  all  the  great  sweep 
of  the  unseen  universe,  whatsoever  beings  may  people 
that  to  us  apparently  waste  and  solitary  space,  how- 
soever many  they  may  be,  '  thick  as  the  autumn  leaves 
in  Vallambrosa,'  or  as  the  motes  that  dance  in  the 
sunshine,  they  are  all  friends  and  allies  and  elder 
brethren  of  those  who  seek  for  Jesus  with  a  loving 
heart.  No  creature  that  owns  His  sway  can  touch  or 
injure  or  need  terrify  the  soul  that  follows  after  Christ. 
*  All  the  servants  of  our  King  in  heaven  and  earth  are 
one,'  and  He  sends  forth  His  brightest  and  loftiest  to 
be  brethren  and  ministers  to  them  who  shall  be  *  heirs 
of  salvation.'  So  we  may  pass  through  the  darkest 
spaces  of  the  universe  and  the  loneliest  valleys  of  the 
shadow  of  death,  sure  that  whosoever  may  be  there 
will  be  our  friend  if  we  are  the  friends  of  Christ. 

II.  So  much,  then,  for  the  first  point  that  I  would 
suggest  here.  Note,  secondly,  the  triumphant  light 
cast  upon  the  cradle  and  the  Cross. 

There  is  something  very  remarkable,  because  for 
purposes  of  identification  plainly  unnecessary,  in  the 
minute  particularity  of  the  designation  which  the 
angel  lips  give  to  Jesus  Christ.  *  Jesus,  the  Nazarene, 
who  was  crucified.'  Do  you  not  catch  a  tone  of  wonder 
and  a  tone  of  triumph  in  this  threefold  particularising 


278  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.xvi. 

of  the  humanity,  the  lowly  residence,  and  the  ignomin- 
ious death?  All  that  lowliness,  suffering,  and  shame 
are  brought  into  comparison  with  the  rising  from  the 
dead.  That  is  to  say,  when  we  grasp  the  fact  of  a  risen 
Christ,  we  look  back  upon  all  the  story  of  His  birth. 
His  lowly  life,  His  death  of  shame,  and  see  a  new 
meaning  in  it,  and  new  reasons  for  triumph  and  for 
wonder.  The  cradle  is  illuminated  by  the  grave,  the 
Cross  by  the  empty  sepulchre.  As  at  the  beginning 
there  is  a  supernatural  entrance  into  life,  so  at  the  end 
there  is  a  supernatural  resumption  of  it.  The  birth 
corresponds  with  the  resurrection,  and  both  witness  to 
the  divinity.  The  lowly  life  culminates  in  the  conquest 
over  death;  the  Nazarene  despised,  rejected,  dwelling 
in  a  place  that  was  a  byword,  sharing  all  the  modest 
lowliness  and  self-respecting  poverty  of  the  Galilean 
peasants,  has  conquered  death.  The  Man  that  was  cruci- 
fied has  conquered  death.  And  the  fact  that  He  has 
risen  explains  and  illuminates  the  fact  that  He  died. 

Brethren,  let  us  lay  this  to  heart,  that  unless  we 
believe  in  the  Resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  saying 
'  He  was  crucified '  is  the  saddest  word  that  can  be 
spoken  about  any  of  the  great  ones  of  the  past.  If  Jesus 
Christ  be  lying  in  some  nameless  grave,  then  all  the 
power  of  His  death  is  gone,  and  He  and  it  are  nothing 
to  me,  or  to  you,  or  to  any  of  our  fellow-men,  more 
than  a  thousand  deaths  of  the  mighty  ones  of  old. 
But  Easter  day  transfigures  the  gloom  of  the  day  of 
the  Crucifixion,  and  the  rising  sun  of  its  morning  gilds 
and  explains  the  Cross.  Now  it  stands  forth  as  the 
great  redeeming  power  of  the  world,  where  my  sins 
and  yours  and  the  whole  world's  have  been  expiated 
and  done  away.  And  now,  instead  of  being  ignominy, 
it  is  glory,  and  instead  of  being  defeat  it  is  victory,  and 


vs.  6,  6]     THE  ANGEL  IN  THE  TOMB       279 

instead  of  looking  upon  that  death  as  the  lowest  point 
of  the  Master's  humiliation,  we  may  look  upon  it  as  He 
Himself  did,  as  the  highest  point  of  His  glorifying.  For 
the  Cross  then  becomes  His  great  means  of  winning 
men  to  Himself,  and  the  very  throne  of  His  power. 
On  the  historical  fact  of  a  Resurrection  depend  all  the 
worth  and  meaning  of  the  death  of  Christ.  •  If  He  be 
not  risen  our  preaching  is  vain,  and  your  faith  is  also 
vain.'  '  If  Christ  be  not  risen,  ye  are  yet  in  your  sins.' 
But  if  what  this  day  commemorates  be  true,  then  upon 
all  His  earthly  life  is  thrown  a  new  light ;  and  we  first 
understand  the  Cross  when  we  look  upon  the  empty 
grave. 

III.  Again,  notice  here  the  majestic  announcement 
of  the  great  fact,  and  its  confirmation. 

*  He  is  risen ;  He  is  not  here.'  The  first  preacher  of 
the  Resurrection  was  an  angel,  a  true  ev-angel-ist. 
His  message  is  conveyed  in  these  brief  sentences,  un- 
connected with  each  other,  in  token,  not  of  abruptness 
and  haste,  but  of  solemnity.  *  He  is  risen '  is  one  word 
in  the  original — a  sentence  of  one  word,  which  an- 
nounces the  mightiest  miracle  that  ever  was  wrought 
upon  earth,  a  miracle  which  opens  the  door  wide 
enough  for  all  supernatural  events  recorded  of  Jesus 
Christ  to  find  an  entrance  to  the  understanding  and 
the  reason. 

*  He  is  risen.'  The  Resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ  is 
declared  by  angel  lips  to  be  His  own  act ;  not,  indeed,  as 
if  He  were  acting  separately  from  the  Father,  but  still 
less  as  if  in  it  He  were  merely  passive.  Think  of  that ; 
a  dead  Christ  raised  Himself.  That  is  the  teaching  of 
the  Scripture.  I  do  not  dwell  here,  at  this  stage  of  my 
sermon,  on  the  many  issues  that  spring  from  such  a 
conception,  but  this  only  I  urge,  Jesus  Christ  was  the 


280  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [oh.xvi. 

Lord  of  life ;  held  life  and  death,  His  own  and  others', 
at  His  beck  and  will.  His  death  was  voluntary;  He 
was  not  passive  in  it,  but  He  died  because  He  chose. 
His  resurrection  was  His  act;  He  rose  because  He 
willed.  *  I  have  power  to  lay  it  down,  I  have  power  to 
take  it  again.'  No  one  said  to  Him, '  I  say  unto  Thee, 
arise ! '  The  divine  power  of  the  Father's  will  did  not 
work  upon  Him  as  from  without  to  raise  Him  from  the 
dead ;  but  He,  the  embodiment  of  divinity,  raised  Him- 
self, even  though  it  is  also  true  that  He  was  raised 
from  the  dead  by  the  glory  of  the  Father.  These  two 
statements  are  not  contradictory,  but  the  former  of 
them  can  only  be  predicated  of  Him ;  and  it  sets  Him 
on  a  pedestal  immeasurably  above,  and  infinitely  apart 
from,  all  those  to  whom  life  is  communicated  by  a 
divine  act.  He  Himself  is  'the  Life,'  and  it  was  not 
possible  that  Life  should  be  holden  of  Death ;  therefore 
He  burst  its  bonds,  and,  like  the  ancient  Jewish  hero, 
though  in  far  nobler  fashion,  our  Samson  enters  into 
the  city  which  is  a  prison,  and  on  His  strong  shoulders 
bears  away  the  gates,  that  none  may  ever  there  be 
prisoners  without  hope. 

Now,  then,  note  the  confirmation  of  this  stupendous 
fact.  'He  is  risen;  He  is  not  here.'  The  grave  was 
empty,  and  the  trembling  women  were  called  upon  to 
look  and  see  for  themselves  that  the  body  was  not 
there.  One  remark  is  all  that  I  wish  to  make  about 
this  matter — viz.  this,  all  theories,  ancient  or  modern, 
which  deny  the  Resurrection,  are  shattered  by  this  one 
question,  What  became  of  Jesus  Christ's  body?  We 
take  it  as  a  plain  historical  fact,  which  the  extremest 
scepticism  has  never  ventured  to  deny,  that  the  grave 
of  Christ  was  empty.  The  trumped-up  story  of  the 
guards  sufficiently  shows  that.    When  the  belief  of  a 


Ts.  5,  6]      THE  ANGEL  IN  THE  TOMB      281 

resurrection  began  to  be  spread  abroad,  what  would 
have  been  easier  for  Pharisees  and  rulers  than  to  have 
gone  to  the  sepulchre  and  rolled  back  the  stone,  and 
said,  'Look  there!  there  is  your  risen  Man,  lying 
mouldering,  like  all  the  rest  of  us.'  They  did  not  do 
it.  Why  ?  Because  the  grave  was  empty.  "Where  was 
the  body  ?  They  had  it  not,  else  they  would  have  been 
glad  to  produce  it.  The  disciples  had  it  not,  for  if  they 
had,  you  come  back  to  the  discredited  and  impossible 
theory  that,  having  it,  and  knowing  that  they  were 
telling  lies,  they  got  up  the  story  of  the  Resurrection. 
Nobody  believes  that  nowadays — nobody  can  believe  it 
who  looks  at  the  results  of  the  preaching  of  this,  by 
hypothesis,  falsehood.  'Men  do  not  gather  grapes  of 
thorns,  nor  figs  of  thistles.'  And  whether  the  disciples 
were  right  or  wrong,  there  can  be  no  question  in  the 
mind  of  anybody  who  is  not  prepared  to  swallow 
impossibilities  compared  to  which  miracles  are  easy, 
that  the  first  disciples  heartily  believed  that  Jesus 
Christ  was  risen  from  the  dead.  As  I  say,  one  con- 
firmation of  the  belief  lies  in  the  empty  grave,  and  this 
question  may  be  put  to  anybody  that  says  '  I  do  not 
believe  in  your  Resurrection ' : — '  What  became  of  the 
sacred  body  of  Jesus  Christ  ? ' 

Now,  note  the  way  in  which  the  announcement  of 
this  tremendous  fact  was  received.  With  blank  be- 
wilderment and  terror  on  the  part  of  these  women, 
followed  by  incredulity  on  the  part  of  the  Apostles  and 
of  the  other  disciples.  -These  things  are  on  the  surface 
of  the  narrative,  and  very  important  they  are.  They 
plainly  tell  us  that  the  first  hearers  did  not  believe  the 
testimony  which  they  themselves  call  upon  us  to  believe. 
And,  that  being  the  state  of  mind  of  the  early  disciples 
on  the  Resurrection  day,  what  becomes  of  the  modern 


282  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.xvi. 

theory,  which  seeks  to  explain  the  fact  of  the  early 
belief  in  the  Resurrection  by  saying,  *0h,  they  had 
worked  themselves  into  such  a  fever  of  expectation 
that  Jesus  Christ  would  rise  from  the  dead  that  the 
wish  was  father  to  the  thought,  and  they  said  that  He 
did  because  they  expected  that  He  would'?  No!  they 
did  not  expect  that  He  would ;  it  was  the  very  last  thing 
that  they  expected.  They  had  not  in  their  minds  the 
soil  out  of  which  such  imaginations  would  grow.  They 
were  perfectly  unprepared  to  believe  it,  and,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  they  did  not  believe  until  they  had 
seen.  So  I  think  that  that  one  fact  disposes  of  a  great 
deal  of  pestilent  and  shallow  talk  in  these  days  that 
tries  to  deny  the  Resurrection  and  to  save  the  character 
of  the  men  that  witnessed  it. 

IV.  And  now,  lastly,  note  here  the  summons  to 
grateful  contemplation. 

*  Behold  the  place  where  they  laid  Him.'  To  these 
women  the  call  was  simply  one  to  come  and  see  what 
would  confirm  the  witness.  But  we  may,  perhaps, 
permissibly  turn  it  to  a  wider  purpose,  and  say  that  it 
summons  us  all  to  thankful,  lowly,  believing,  glad  con- 
templation of  that  empty  grave  as  the  basis  of  all  our 
hopes.  Look  upon  it  and  upon  the  Resurrection  which 
it  confirms  to  us  as  an  historical  fact.  It  sets  the  seal 
of  the  divine  approval  on  Christ's  work,  and  declares 
the  divinity  of  His  person  and  the  all-sufficiency  of  His 
mighty  sacrifice.  Therefore  let  us,  laden  with  our  sins 
and  seeking  for  reconciliation  with  God,  and  knowing 
how  impossible  it  is  for  us  to  bring  an  atonement  or  a 
ransom  for  ourselves,  look  upon  that  grave  and  learn 
that  Christ  has  offered  the  sacrifice  which  God  has 
accepted,  and  with  which  He  is  well  pleased. 

'  Behold  the  place  where  tbey  laid  Him,'  and,  looking 


vs.  5,  6]     THE  ANGEL  IN  THE  TOMB      283 

upon  it,  let  us  think  of  that  Resurrection  as  a  prophecy, 
with  a  bearing  upon  us  and  upon  all  the  dear  ones 
that  have  trod  the  common  road  into  the  great  dark- 
ness. Christ  has  died,  therefore  they  live ;  Christ  lives, 
therefore  we  shall  never  die.  His  grave  was  in  a 
garden — a  garden  indeed.  The  yearly  miracle  of  the 
returning  *  life  re-orient  out  of  dust,'  typifies  the 
mightier  miracle  which  He  works  for  all  that  trust  in 
Him,  when  out  of  death  He  leads  them  into  life.  The 
graveyard  has  become  '  God's  acre ' ;  the  garden  in  which 
the  seed  sown  in  weakness  is  to  be  raised  in  power,  and 
sown  corruptible  is  to  be  raised  in  incorruption. 

'  Behold  the  place  where  they  laid  Him,'  and  in  the 
empty  grave  read  the  mystery  of  the  Resurrection  as 
the  pattern  and  the  symbol  of  our  higher  life  ;  that,  'like 
as  Christ  was  raised  from  the  dead  by  the  glory  of  the 
Father,  even  so  we  also  should  walk  in  newness  of  life.' 
Oh  to  partake  more  and  more  of  that  power  of  His 
Resurrection ! 

In  Christ's  empty  grave  is  planted  the  true  *  tree  of 
life,  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  "true"  Paradise  of 
God.'  And  we,  if  we  truly  trust  and  humbly  love  that 
Lord,  shall  partake  of  its  fruits,  and  shall  one  day  share 
the  glories  of  His  risen  life  in  the  heavens,  even  as 
we  share  the  power  of  it  here  and  now. 


LOVE'S  TRIUMPH  OVER  SIN 

'Tell  His  disciples  and  Peter  that  He  goeth  before  you  into  Oalilee. 

Mark  zvi.  7. 

The  prevailing  tradition  of  Christian  antiquity  ascribes 
this  Gospel  to  John  Mark,  sister's  son  to  Barnabas,  and 
affirms  that  in  composing  it  he  was  in  some  sense  the 
•  interpreter '  of  the  Apostle  Peter.  Some  confirmation 
of  this  alleged  connection  between  the  Evangelist  and 
the  Apostle  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact  that  the 
former  is  mentioned  by  the  latter  as  with  him  when 
he  wrote  his  First  Epistle.  And,  in  the  Gospel  itself, 
there  are  some  little  peculiarities  which  seem  to  look 
in  the  same  direction.  A  certain  speciality  is  traceable 
here  and  there,  both  in  omissions  of  incidents  in  the 
Apostle's  life  recorded  by  some  of  the  other  Evangel- 
ists, and  in  the  addition  of  slight  facts  concerning  him 
unnoticed  by  them. 

Chief  among  these  is  the  place  which  his  name  holds 
in  this  very  remarkable  message,  delivered  by  the 
angels  to  the  women  who  came  to  Christ's  tomb  on  the 
Resurrection  morning.  Matthew,  who  also  reports  the 
angels'  words,  has  only  '  tell  His  disciples.'  Mark  adds 
the  words,  which  must  have  come  like  wine  and  oil  to 
the  bruised  heart  of  the  denier,  *  tell  His  disciples  and 
Peter.*  To  the  others,  it  was  of  little  importance  that 
his  name  should  have  been  named  then ;  to  him  it  was 
life  from  the  dead,  that  he  should  have  been  singled 
out  to  receive  a  word  of  forgiveness  and  a  summons  to 
meet  his  Lord;  as  if  He  had  said  through  His  angel 
messengers — '  I  would  see  them  all ;  but  whoever  may 

284 


V.  7]      LOVE'S  TRIUMPH  OVER  SIN        285 

stay  behind,  let  not  him  be  absent  from  our  glad  meet- 
ing again.' 

We  find,  too,  that  the  same  individualising  of  the 
Apostle,  which  led  to  his  being  thus  greeted  in  the 
first  thoughts  of  his  risen  Lord,  led  also  to  an  interview 
with  Him  on  that  same  day,  about  which  not  a  syllable 
of  detail  is  found  in  any  Gospel,  though  the  fact  was 
known  to  the  whole  body  of  the  disciples.  For  when 
the  two  friends  who  had  met  Christ  at  Emmaus  came 
back  in  the  night  with  their  strange  tidings,  their 
eagerness  to  tell  their  joyful  news  is  anticipated  by 
the  eagerness  of  the  brethren  to  tell  their  wonderful 
story:  'The  Lord  is  risen  indeed,  and  hath  appeared 
to  Simon.'  Paul,  too,  gives  that  meeting,  when  the 
Lord  was  alone  with  the  penitent,  the  foremost  place 
in  his  list  of  the  evidences  of  Christ's  resurrection,  *  He 
was  seen  of  Cephas.'  What  passed  then  is  hidden 
from  all  eyes.  The  secrets  of  that  hour  of  deep  con- 
trition and  healing  love  Peter  kept  secretly  curtained 
from  sight,  in  the  innermost  chamber  of  his  memory. 
But  we  may  be  sure  that  then  forgiveness  was  sought 
and  granted,  and  the  bond  that  fastened  him  to  his 
Lord  was  welded  together  again,  where  it  had  snapped, 
and  was  the  stronger  because  it  had  been  broken,  and 
at  the  point  of  fracture 

The  man  must  be  first  re-united  to  his  Saviour, 
before  the  Apostle  can  be  reinstated  in  his  functions. 
In  secrecy,  not  beheld  by  any,  is  the  personal  act  of 
restoration  to  love  and  friendship  effected;  and  then 
in  public,  before  his  brethren,  who  were  concerned  in 
his  official  position,  but  not  in  his  personal  relation  to 
his  Lord,  the  reappointment  of  the  pardoned  disciple 
to  his  apostleship  takes  place.  His  sin  had  had  a 
public  aspect,  and  his  threefold  denial  must,  in  so  far 


286  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.xvi. 

as  it  was  an  outward  act,  be  effaced  by  his  threefold  con- 
fession. Then  he  becomes  again  •  Peter,' — not  merely 
*  Simon  Bar  Jonas ' ;  and,  as  the  Book  of  the  Acts  shows, 
never  ceases  to  hear  the  divine  commissions,  •  Feed  My 
sheep,'  '  Follow  Me ' ;  nor  ever  forgets  the  lessons  he 
had  learned  in  these  bitter  hours  of  self-loathing,  and 
in  the  rapturous  moments  when  again  he  saw  his  Lord. 

Putting  all  these  things  together — this  message  from 
Christ,  the  interview  which  followed  it,  and  the  sub- 
sequent history  of  the  Apostle — we  have  a  connected 
series  of  facts  which  may  illustrate  for  us,  better  than 
many  dry  words  of  mine  could  do,  the  triumph  over 
sin  of  the  forgiving  love  of  Christ. 

I.  Notice,  then,  first,  the  loving  message  with  which 
J?'     He  beckons  the  wanderer  back. 

If  we  try  to  throw  ourselves  back  into  the  Apostle's 
black  thoughts  during  the  interval  between  his  denial 
and  the  Resurrection  morning,  we  shall  better  feel 
what  this  love-token  from  the  grave  must  have  been 
to  him.  His  natural  character,  as  well  as  his  real  love 
for  his  Master,  ensured  that  his  lies  could  not  long 
content  him.  They  were  uttered  so  vehemently  because 
they  were  uttered  in  spite  of  inward  resistance.  Over- 
powered by  fear,  beaten  down  from  all  his  vain-glorious 
self-confidence  by  a  woman-servant's  sharp  tongue  and 
mocking  eye,  he  lied — and  then  came  the  rebound.  The 
same  impulsive  vehemence  which  had  hurried  him  into 
the  fault,  would  swing  him  back  again  to  quick  peni- 
tence when  the  cock  crew,  and  that  Divine  Face,  turning 
slowly  from  before  the  judgment-seat  with  the  sorrow 
I  of  wounded  love  upon  it,  silently  said,  'Remember.' 
We  can  fancy  how  that  bitter  weeping,  which  began  so 
soon,  grew  more  passionate  and  more  bitter  when  the 
end  came.    We  are  singularly  happy  if  we  do  not  know 


V.  7]      LOVE'S  TRIUMPH  OVER  SIN       287 

the  pang  of  remembering  some  fault  to  the  loved  dead 
— some  hasty  word,  some  momentary  petulance,  some 
selfish  disregard  of  their  happiness,  some  sullen  refusal 
of  their  tenderness.  How  the  thought  that  it  is  all 
irrevocable  now  embitters  the  remorse !  How  passion- 
ately we  long  that  we  could  have  one  of  the  moments 
again,  which  seemed  so  trivial  while  we  possessed  them, 
that  we  might  confess  and  be  forgiven,  and  atone  I 
And  this  poor,  warm-hearted,  penitent  denier  had  to 
think  that  his  very  last  act  to  the  Lord  whom  he  loved 
so  well  had  been  such  an  act  of  cowardly  shrinking 
from  acknowledging  Him ;  and  that  henceforward  his 
memory  of  that  dear  face  was  to  be  for  ever  saddened 
by  that  last  look !  That  they  should  have  parted  so ! 
that  that  sad  gaze  was  to  be  the  last  he  should  ever 
have,  and  that  it  was  to  haunt  him  for  the  rest  of  his 
life !  We  can  understand  how  heavily  the  hours  passed 
on  that  dreary  Saturday.  If,  as  seems  probable,  he 
was  with  John  in  his  home,  whither  the  latter  had  led 
the  mother  of  our  Lord,  what  a  group  were  gathered 
there,  each  with  a  separate  pang  from  the  common 
sorrow ! 

Into  this  sorrow  come  the  tidings  that  all  was  not 
over,  that  the  irrevocable  was  not  irrevocable,  that 
perhaps  new  days  of  loyal  love  might  still  be  granted, 
in  which  the  doleful  failure  of  the  past  might  be 
forgotten;  and  then,  whether  before  or  after  his 
hurried  rush  to  the  grave  we  need  not  here  stay  to 
inquire,  follows  the  message  of  our  text,  a  word  of 
forgiveness  and  reconciliation,  sent  by  the  Lord  as  the 
herald  and  outrider  of  His  own  coming,  to  bring  glad- 
ness and  hope  ere  He  Himself  draws  near. 

Think  of  this  message  as  a  revelation  of  love  that  is 
stronger  than  death. 


288  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xvi. 

The  news  of  Christ's  resurrection  must  have  struck 
awe,  but  not  necessarily  joy,  into  the  disciples'  hearts. 
The  dearest  ones  suffer  so  solemn  a  change  to  our 
apprehensions  when  they  pass  into  the  grave,  that  to 
many  a  man  it  would  be  maddening  terror  to  meet 
those  whom  he  loved  and  still  loves.  So  there  must 
have  been  a  spasm  of  fear  even  among  Christ's  friends 
when  they  heard  of  Him  as  risen  again,  and  much  con- 
fusing doubt  as  to  what  would  be  the  amount  of 
resemblance  to  His  old  self.  They  probably  dreaded 
to  find  Him  far  removed  from  their  familiar  love, 
forgetful  perhaps  of  much  of  the  old  life,  with  other 
thoughts  than  before,  with  the  atmosphere  of  the 
other  world  round  about  Him,  which  glorified  Him 
indeed,  but  separated  Him  too  from  those  whose  grosser 
lungs  could  live  only  in  this  thick  air.  These  words  of 
our  text  would  go  far  to  scatter  all  such  fears.  They 
link  on  the  future  to  the  past,  as  if  His  first  thought 
when  He  rose  had  been  to  gather  up  again  the  dropped 
threads  of  their  intercourse,  and  to  carry  on  their 
ancient  concord  and  companionship  as  though  no 
break  had  been  at  all.  For  all  the  disciples,  and  espe- 
cially for  him  who  is  especially  named,  they  confirm 
the  identity  of  Christ's  whole  dispositions  towards 
them  now,  with  those  which  He  had  before.  Death 
has  not  changed  Him  at  all.  Much  has  been  done  since 
He  left  them;  the  world's  history  has  been  changed, 
but  nothing  which  has  happened  has  had  any  effect  on 
the  reality  of  His  love,  and  on  the  inmost  reality  of 
their  companionship.  In  these  respects  they  are  where 
they  were,  and  even  Calvary  and  the  tomb  are  but  as  a 
parenthesis.  The  old  bonds  are  all  re-knit,  and  the 
junction  is  all  but  imperceptible. 

This  is  how  we  have  to  think  of  our  Lord  now,  in 


V.7]       LOVE'S  TRIUMPH  OVER  SIN        289 

His  attitude  towards  us.  We,  too,  may  have  our  share 
in  that  message,  which  came  like  morning  twilight 
before  He  shone  upon  the  apostles'  darkness.  To  them 
it  proclaimed  a  love  which  was  stronger  than  death. 
To  us  it  may  declare  a  love  which  is  stronger  than  all 
change  of  circumstances.  He  is  no  more  parted  from 
us  by  the  Throne  than  from  them  by  the  Cross.  He 
descended  into  '  the  lower  parts  of  the  earth,'  and  His 
love  lived  on,  and  so  it  does  now,  when  He  has  *  ascended 
up  far  above  all  heavens.'  Love  knows  no  difference  of 
place,  conditions,  or  functions.  From  out  of  the  blazing 
heart  of  the  Glory  the  same  tender  face  looks  that  bent 
over  sick  men's  pallets,  and  that  turned  on  Peter  in  the 
judgment-hall.  The  hand  that  holds  the  sceptre  of  the 
universe  is  the  hand  that  was  nailed  to  the  Cross,  and 
that  was  stretched  out  to  that  same  Peter  when  he  was 
ready  to  sink.  The  breast  that  is  girt  with  the  golden 
girdle  of  priestly  sovereignty  is  the  same  tender  home 
on  which  John's  happy  head  rested  in  placid  content- 
ment. All  the  love  that  ever  flowed  from  Christ  flows 
from  Him  still.  To  Him,  'whose  nature  and  whose 
name  are  Love,'  it  matters  nothing  whether  He  is  in 
the  house  at  Bethany,  or  in  the  upper  room,  or  hanging 
on  the  Cross,  or  lying  in  the  grave,  or  risen  from  the 
dead,  or  seated  on  the  right  hand  of  God.  He  is  the 
same  everywhere  and  always.  *  I  have  loved  thee  with 
an  everlasting  love.' 

Again,  this  message  is  the  revelation  of  a  love  that 
is  not  turned  away  by  our  sinful  changes. 

Peter  may  have  thought  that  he  had,  with  his  own 
words,  broken  the  bond  between  him  and  his  Lord. 
He  had  renounced  his  allegiance ;  was  the  renunciation 
to  be  accepted?  He  had  said,  *I  am  not  one  of  them'; 
did  Christ  answer,  *  Be  it  so  ;  one  of  them  thou  shalt  no 

VOL.  II.  T 


290  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xvi. 

more  be'?  The  message  from  the  women's  lips  settled 
the  question,  and  let  him  feel  that,  though  his  grasp 
of  Christ  had  relaxed,  Christ's  grasp  of  him  had  not. 
He  might  change,  he  might  cease  for  a  time  to  prize 
his  Lord's  love,  he  might  cease  either  to  be  conscious 
of  it  or  to  wish  for  it ;  but  that  love  could  not  change. 
It  was  unaffected  by  his  unfaithfulness,  even  as  it  had 
not  been  originated  by  his  fidelity.  Repelled,  it  still 
lingered  beside  him.  Disowned,  it  still  asserted  its 
property  in  him.  Being  reviled,  it  blessed  ;  being  per- 
secuted, it  endured ;  being  defamed,  it  entreated ;  and, 
patient  through  all  wrongs  and  changes,  it  loved  on  till 
it  had  won  back  the  erring  heart,  and  could  fill  it  with 
the  old  blessedness  again. 

And  is  not  that  same  miracle  of  long-enduring  love 
presented  before  every  one  of  us,  as  in  Christ's  heart 
for  us?  True,  our  sin  interferes  with  our  sense  of  it, 
and  modifies  the  form  in  which  it  must  deal  with  us ; 
but,  however  real  and  disastrous  may  be  the  power 
of  our  evil  in  troubling  the  communion  of  love  between 
us  and  our  Lord,  and  in  compelling  Him  to  smite 
before  He  binds  up,  never  forget  that  our  sin  is  utterly 
impotent  to  turn  away  the  tide  that  sets  to  us  from 
the  heart  of  Christ.  Earthborn  vapours  may  hang 
about  the  low  levels,  and  turn  the  gracious  sun  himself 
into  a  blood-red  ball  of  lurid  fire ;  but  they  reach  only 
a  little  way  up,  and  high  above  their  region  is  the  pure 
blue,  and  the  blessed  light  pours  down  upon  the  upper 
surface  of  the  white  mist,  and  thins  away  its  opaqueness, 
and  dries  up  its  clinging  damp,  and  at  last  parts  it  into 
filmy  fragments  that  float  out  of  sight,  and  the  dwellers 
on  the  green  earth  see  the  sun,  which  was  always  there 
even  when  they  could  not  behold  it,  and  which,  by  shin- 
ing on,  has  conquered  all  the  obstructions  that  veiled 


V.  7]       LOVE'S  TRIUMPH  OVER  SIN       291 

its  beams.  Sin  is  mighty,  but  one  thing  sin  cannot  do, 
and  that  is  to  make  Christ  cease  to  love  us.  Sin  is 
mighty,  but  one  other  thing  sin  cannot  do,  and  that  is  to 
prevent  Christ  from  manifesting  His  love  to  us  sinners, 
that  we  may  learn  to  love  and  so  may  cease  to  sin. 
Christ's  love  is  not  at  the  beck  and  call  of  our  fluctuat- 
ing affections.  It  has  its  source  deeper  than  in  the 
springs  in  our  hearts,  namely  in  the  depths  of  His  own 
nature.  It  is  not  the  echo  or  the  answer  to  ours,  but 
ours  is  the  echo  to  His ;  and  that  being  so,  our  changes 
do  not  reach  to  it,  any  more  than  earth's  seasons  affect 
the  sun.  For  ever  and  ever  He  loves.  Whilst  we  for- 
get Him,  He  remembers  us.  Whilst  we  repay  Him  with 
neglect  or  with  hate,  He  still  loves.  If  we  believe  not. 
He  still  abides  faithful  to  His  merciful  purpose,  and, 
in  spite  of  all  that  we  can  do,  will  not  deny  Himself,  by 
ceasing  to  be  the  incarnate  Patience,  the  perfect  Love. 
He  is  Himself  the  great  ensample  of  that  'charity' 
which  His  Apostle  painted  ;  He  is  not  easily  provoked ; 
He  is  not  soon  angry ;  He  beareth  all  things ;  He  hopeth 
all  things.  We  cannot  get  away  from  the  sweep  of  His 
love,  wander  we  ever  so  far.  The  child  may  struggle 
in  the  mother's  arms,  and  beat  the  breast  that  shelters 
it  with  its  little  hand ;  but  it  neither  hurts  nor  angers 
that  gentle  bosom,  nor  loosens  the  firm  but  loving 
grasp  that  holds  it  fast.  He  carries,  as  a  nurse  does, 
His  wayward  children,  and,  blessed  be  His  name !  His 
arm  is  too  strong  for  us  to  shake  it  off,  His  love  too 
divine  for  us  to  dam  it  back. 

And  still  further,  here  we  see  a  love  which  sends  a 
special  message  because  of  special  sin. 

If  one  was  to  be  singled  out  from  the  little  company 
to  receive  by  name  the  summons  of  the  Lord  to  meet 
Him  in  Galilee,  we  might  have  expected  it  to  have 


292  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xvi. 

been  that  faithful  friend  who  stood  beneath  the 
Cross,  till  his  Lord's  command  sent  him  to  his  own 
home;  or  that  weeping  mother  whom  he  then  led 
away  with  him;  or  one  of  the  two  who  had  been 
turned  from  secret  disciples  into  confessors  by  the 
might  of  their  love,  and  had  laid  His  body  with  reverent 
care  in  the  grave  in  the  garden.  Strange  reward  for 
true  love  that  they  should  be  merged  in  the  general 
message,  and  strange  recompense  for  treason  and 
cowardice  that  Peter's  name  should  be  thus  distin- 
guished !  Is  sin,  then,  a  passport  to  His  deeper  love  ? 
Is  the  murmur  true  after  all,  *  Thou  never  gavest  me 
a  kid,  but  as  soon  as  this  thy  son  is  come,  which  hath 
devoured  thy  living  with  harlots,  thou  hast  killed  for 
him  the  fatted  calf '  ?  Yes,  and  no.  No,  inasmuch  as 
the  unbroken  fellowship  hath  in  it  calm  and  deep  joys 
which  the  returning  prodigal  does  not  know,  and  all 
sin  lays  waste  and  impoverishes  the  soul.  Yes,  inas- 
much as  He,  who  knows  all  our  needs,  knows  that  the 
denier  needs  a  special  treatment  to  bring  him  back  to 
peace,  and  that  the  further  a  poor  heart  has  strayed 
from  Him,  the  mightier  must  be  the  forthputting  of 
manifested  love,  if  it  is  to  be  strong  enough  to  travel 
across  all  the  dreary  wastes,  and  draw  back  again,  to 
its  orbit  among  its  sister  planets,  the  wandering  star. 
The  depth  of  our  need  determines  the  strength  of  the 
restorative  power  put  forth.  They  who  had  not  gone 
away  would  come  at  the  call  addressed  to  them  all, 
but  he  who  had  sundered  himself  from  them  and  from 
the  Lord  would  remain  in  his  sad  isolation,  unless  some 
special  means  were  used  to  bring  him  back.  The  more 
we  have  sinned,  the  less  can  we  believe  in  Christ's  love; 
and  so  the  more  we  have  sinned,  the  more  marvellous 
and   convincing   does    He   make   the  testimony  and 


V.  7]      LOVE'S  TRIUMPH  OVER  SIN       293 

operations  of  His  love  to  us.  It  is  ever  to  the  poor 
bewildered  sheep,  lying  panting  in  the  wilderness,  that 
He  conies.  Among  His  creatures,  the  race  which  has 
sinned  is  that  which  receives  the  most  stupendous 
proof  of  the  seeking  divine  love.  Among  men,  the 
publicans  and  the  harlots,  the  denying  Peters  and  the 
persecuting  Pauls,  are  they  to  whom  the  most  persua- 
sive entreaties  of  His  love  are  sent,  and  on  whom  the 
strongest  powers  of  His  grace  are  brought  to  bear. 
Our  sin  cannot  check  the  flow  of  His  love.  More  mar- 
vellous still,  our  sin  occasions  a  mightier  burst  of  the 
manifestation  of  His  love,  for  eyes  blinded  by  selfish- 
ness and  carelessness,  or  by  fear  and  despair,  need  to 
see  a  brightness  beyond  the  noonday  sun,  ere  they  can 
behold  the  amazing  truth  of  His  love  to  them;  and 
what  they  need,  they  get.    *  Go,  tell  Peter.' 

Here,  too,  is  the  revelation  of  a  love  which  singles 
out  a  sinful  man  by  name. 

Christ  does  not  deal  with  us  in  the  mass,  but  soul  by 
soul.  Our  finite  minds  have  to  lose  the  individual  in 
order  to  grasp  the  class.  Our  eyes  see  the  wood  far  off 
on  the  mountain-side,  but  not  the  single  trees,  nor 
each  fluttering  leaf.  We  think  of  '  the  race ' — the 
twelve  hundred  millions  that  live  to-day,  and  the  un- 
counted crowds  that  have  been,  but  the  units  in  that 
inconceivable  sum  are  not  separate  in  our  view.  But 
He  does  not  generalise  so.  He  has  a  clear  individualis- 
ing knowledge  of  each ;  each  separately  has  a  place  in 
His  mind  or  heart.  To  each  He  says,  •  I  know  thee  by 
name.'  He  loves  the  world,  because  He  loves  every 
single  soul  with  a  distinct  love.  And  His  messages 
of  blessing  are  as  specific  and  individualising  as  the 
love  from  which  they  come.  He  speaks  to  each  of  us 
as  truly  as  He  singled  out  Peter  here,  as  truly  as  when 


294  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xvi. 

His  voice  from  heaven  said,  'Saul,  Saul.'  English 
names  are  on  His  lips  as  really  as  Jewish  ones.  He 
calls  to  thee  by  thy  name — thou  hast  a  share  in  His 
love.  To  thee  the  call  to  trust  Him  is  addressed,  and 
to  thee  forgiveness,  help,  purity,  life  eternal  are  offered. 
Thou  hast  sinned ;  that  only  infuses  deeper  tenderness 
into  His  beseeching  tones.  Thou  hast  gone  further 
from  Him  than  some  of  thy  fellows ;  that  only  makes 
His  recovering  energy  greater.  Thou  hast  denied  His 
name;  that  only  makes  Him  speak  thine  with  more 
persuasive  invitation. 

Look,  then,  at  this  one  instance  of  a  love  stronger 
than  death,  mightier  than  sin,  sending  its  special  greet- 
ing to  the  denier,  and  learn  how  deep  the  source,  how 
powerful  the  flow,  how  universal  the  sweep,  of  that 
river  of  the  love  of  God,  which  streams  to  us  through 
the  channel  of  Christ  His  Son. 

II.  Notice,  secondly,  the  secret  meeting  between  our 
Lord  and  the  Apostle. 

That  is  the  second  stage  in  the  victorious  conflict  of 
divine  love  with  man's 'sin.  As  I  have  said,  that  in- 
terview took  place  on  the  day  of  the  Resurrection, 
apparently  before  our  Lord  joined  the  two  sorrowful 
travellers  to  Emmaus,  and  certainly  before  He  appeared 
to  the  company  gathered  by  night  in  the  closed  cham- 
ber. The  fact  was  well  known,  for  it  is  referred  to  by 
Luke  and  by  Paul,  but  nothing  beyond  the  fact  seems 
to  have  been  known,  or  at  all  events  is  made  public  by 
them.    All  this  is  very  significant  and  very  beautiful. 

What  tender  consideration  there  is  in  meeting  Peter 
alone,  before  seeing  him  in  the  companionship  of  the 
others  I  How  painful  would  have  been  the  rush  of  the 
first  emotions  of  shame  awakened  by  Christ's  presence, 
if  their  course  had  been  checked  by  any  eye  but  His 


V.  7]       LOVE'S  TRIUMPH  OVER  SIN       295 

own  beholding  them !  How  impossible  it  would  have 
then  been  to  have  poured  out  all  the  penitent  confes- 
sions with  which  his  heart  must  have  been  full,  and 
how  hard  it  would  have  been  to  have  met  for  the  first 
time,  and  not  to  have  poured  them  out!  With  most 
loving  insight,  then,  into  the  painful  embarrassment, 
and  dread  of  unsympathising  standers-by,  which  must 
have  troubled  the  contrite  Apostle,  the  Lord  is  careful 
to  give  him  the  opportunity  of  weeping  his  fill  on  His 
own  bosom,  unrestrained  by  any  thought  of  others, 
and  will  let  him  sob  out  his  contrition  to  His  own  ear 
alone.  Then  the  meeting  in  the  upper  chamber  will 
be  one  of  pure  joy  to  Peter,  as  to  all  the  rest.  The 
emotions  which  he  has  in  common  with  them  find  full 
play,  in  that  hour  when  all  are  reunited  to  their  Lord. 
The  experience  which  belongs  to  himself  alone  has  its 
solitary  hour  of  unrecorded  communion.  The  first  to 
whom  He,  who  is  '  separate  from  sinners,'  appeared  was 
'Mary  Magdalene,  out  of  whom  He  had  cast  seven 
devils.'  The  next  were  the  women  who  bore  this 
message  of  forgiveness ;  and  probably  the  next  was 
the  one  among  all  the  company  who  had  sinned  most 
grievously.  So  wondrous  is  the  order  of  His  prefer- 
ences, coming  ever  nearest  to  those  who  need  Him 
most. 

And  may  we  not  regard  this  secret  interview  as 
representing  for  us  what  is  needed  on  our  part  to 
make  Christ's  forgiving  love  our  own  ?  There  must  be 
the  personal  contact  of  my  soul  with  the  loving  heart 
of  Christ,  the  individual  act  of  my  own  coming  to  Him, 
and,  as  the  old  Puritans  used  to  say,  *  my  transacting ' 
with  Him.  Like  the  ocean  of  the  atmosphere,  His 
love  encompasses  me,  and  in  it  I  *  live,  and  move,  and 
have  my  being.'    But  I  must  let  it  flow  into  my  spirit, 


296  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xvi. 

and  stir  the  dormant  music  of  my  soul.  I  can  shut  it 
out,  sealing  my  heart  love-tight  against  it.  I  do  shut 
it  out,  unless  by  my  own  conscious,  personal  act  I 
yield  myself  to  Him,  unless  by  my  own  faith  I  come  to 
Him,  and  meet  Him,  secretly  and  really  as  did  the 
penitent  Apostle,  whom  the  message,  that  proclaimed 
the  love  of  his  Lord,  emboldened  to  meet  the  Lord  who 
loved,  and  by  His  own  lips  to  be  assured  of  forgiveness 
and  friendship.  It  is  possible  to  stumble  at  noontide, 
as  in  the  dark.  A  man  may  starve,  outside  of  barns 
filled  with  plenty,  and  his  lips  may  be  parched  with 
thirst,  though  he  is  within  sight  of  a  broad  river 
flowing  in  the  sunshine.  So  a  soul  may  stiffen  into 
the  death  of  self  and  sin,  even  though  the  voice  that 
wakes  the  dead  to  a  life  of  love  be  calling  to  it.  Christ 
and  His  grace  are  yours  if  you  will,  but  the  invitations 
and  beseechings  of  His  mercy,  the  constant  drawings  of 
His  love,  the  all-embracing  offers  of  His  forgiveness, 
may  be  all  in  vain,  if  you  do  not  grasp  them  and  hold 
them  fast  by  the  hand  of  faith. 

That  personal  act  must  be  preceded  by  the  message 
of  His  mighty  love.  Ever  He  sends  such  messages 
as  heralds  of  His  coming,  just  as  He  prepared  the  way 
for  His  own  approach  to  the  Apostle,  by  the  words 
of  our  text.  Our  faith  must  follow  His  word.  Our 
love  can  only  be  called  forth  by  the  manifestation  of 
His.  But  His  message  must  be  followed  by  that  per- 
sonal act,  else  His  word  is  spoken  in  vain,  and  there 
is  no  real  union  between  our  need  and  His  fulness, 
nor  any  cleansing  contact  of  His  grace  with  our  foul- 
ness. 

Mark,  too,  the  intensely  individual  character  of  that 
act  of  faith  by  which  a  man  accepts  Christ's  grace. 
Friends  and  companions  may  bring  the  tidings  of  the 


V.  7]       LOVE'S  TRIUMPH  OVER  SIN       297 

risen  Lord's  loving  heart,  but  the  actual  closing  with 
the  Lord's  mercy  must  be  done  by  myself,  alone  with 
Him. 

As  if  there  were  not  another  soul  on  earth,  I  and 
He  must  meet,  and  in  solitude  deep  as  that  of  death, 
each  man  for  himself  must  yield  to  Incarnate  Love, 
and  receive  eternal  life.  The  flocks  and  herds,  the 
wives  and  children,  have  all  to  be  sent  away,  and  Jacob 
must  be  left  alone,  before  the  mysterious  Wrestler 
comes  whose  touch  of  fire  lames  the  whole  nature  of  sin 
and  death,  whose  inbreathed  power  strengthens  to  hold 
Him  fast  till  He  speaks  a  blessing,  who  desires  to  be 
overcome,  and  makes  our  yielding  to  Him  our  prevail- 
ing with  Him.  As  one  of  the  old  mystics  called  prayer 
'  the  flight  of  the  lonely  man  to  the  only  God,'  so  we 
may  call  the  act  of  faith  the  meeting  of  the  soul  alone 
with  Christ  alone.  Do  you  know  anything  of  that 
personal  communion  ?  Have  you,  your  own  very  self, 
by  your  own  penitence  for  your  own  sin,  and  your  own 
thankful  faith  in  the  Love  which  thereby  becomes 
truly  yours,  isolated  yourself  from  all  companionship, 
and  joined  yourself  to  Christ?  Then,  through  that 
narrow  passage  where  we  can  only  walk  singly,  you 
will  come  into  a  large  place.  The  act  of  faith,  which 
separates  us  from  all  men,  unites  us  for  the  first  time 
in  real  brotherhood,  and  they  who,  one  by  one,  come 
to  Jesus  and  meet  Him  alone,  next  find  that  they  *  are 
come  to  the  city  of  God,  to  an  innumerable  company, 
to  the  festal  choirs  of  angels,  to  the  Church  of  the 
First-born,  to  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  per- 
fect.' 

III.  Notice,  finally,  the  gradual  cure  of  the  pardoned    -^Jp 
Apostle. 

He  was  restored  to  his  office,  as  we  read  in  the  sup- 


298  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xvi. 

plement  to  John's  Gospel.  In  that  wonderful  conver- 
sation, full  as  it  is  of  allusions  to  Peter's  fall,  Christ 
asks  but  one  question,  *  Lovest  thou  Me  ? '  That  in- 
cludes everything.  '  Hast  thou  learned  the  lesson  of  My 
mercy?  hast  thou  responded  to  My  love?  then  thou 
art  fit  for  My  work,  and  beginning  to  be  perfected.'  So 
the  third  stage  in  the  triumph  of  Christ's  love  over 
man's  sin  is,  when  we,  beholding  that  love  flowing 
towards  us,  and  accepting  it  by  faith,  respond  to  it 
with  our  own,  and  are  able  to  say, '  Thou  knowest  that 
I  love  Thee.' 

The  all-embracing  question  is  followed  by  an  equally 
comprehensive  command,  *  Follow  thou  Me,'  a  two- 
worded  compendium  of  all  morals,  a  precept  which 
naturally  results  from  love,  and  certainly  leads  to 
absolute  perfectness.  With  love  to  Christ  for  motive, 
and  Christ  Himself  for  pattern,  and  following  Him 
for  our  one  duty,  all  things  are  possible,  and  the  utter 
defeat  of  sin  in  us  is  but  a  question  of  time. 

And  the  certainty,  as  well  as  the  gradual  slowness, 
of  that  victory,  are  well  set  forth  by  the  future  history 
of  the  Apostle.  We  know  how  his  fickleness  passed 
away,  and  how  his  vehement  character  was  calmed 
and  consolidated  into  resolved  persistency,  and  how 
his  love  of  distinction  and  self-confidence  were  turned 
in  a  new  direction,  obeyed  a  divine  impulse,  and  became 
powers.  We  read  how  he  started  to  the  front ;  how 
he  guided  the  Church  in  the  first  stage  of  its  develop- 
ment ;  how  whenever  there  was  danger  he  was  in 
the  van,  and  whenever  there  was  work  his  hand  was 
first  on  the  plough ;  how  he  bearded  and  braved  rulers 
and  councils;  how — more  difficult  still  for  him — he  lay 
quietly  in  prison  sleeping  like  a  child,  between  his 
guards,  on  the  night  before  his  execution ;  how — most 


V.7]       LOVE'S  TRIUMPH  OVER  SIN        299 

difficult  of  all — lie  acquiesced  in  Paul's  superiority ;  and, 
if  he  still  needed  to  be  withstood  and  blamed,  could 
recognise  the  wisdom  of  the  rebuke,  and  in  his  calm 
old  age  could  speak  well  of  the  rebuker  as  his  '  beloved 
brother  Paul.'  Nor  was  the  cure  a  change  in  the  great 
lines  of  his  character.  These  remain  the  same,  the 
characteristic  excellences  possible  to  them  are  brought 
out,  the  defects  are  curbed  and  cast  out.  The  •  new  man' 
is  the  '  old  man'  with  a  new  direction,  obeying  a  new 
impulse,  but  retaining  its  individuality.  Weaknesses 
become  strengths;  the  sanctified  character  is  the  old 
character  sanctified;  and  it  is  still  true  that  'every 
man  hath  his  proper  gift  of  God,  one  after  this  manner, 
and  another  after  that.' 

It  is  very  instructive  to  observe  how  deeply  the 
experiences  of  his  fall,  and  of  Christ's  mercy  then,  had 
impressed  themselves  on  Peter's  memory,  and  how  con- 
stantly they  were  present  with  him  all  through  his 
after-life.  His  Epistles  are  full  of  allusions  which  show 
this.  For  instance,  to  go  a  step  further  back  in  his  life, 
he  remembered  that  the  Lord  had  said  to  him, '  Thou  art 
Peter,'  'a  stone,'  and  that  his  pride  in  that  name  had 
helped  to  his  rash  confidence,  and  so  to  his  sin.  There- 
fore, when  he  is  cured  of  these,  he  takes  pleasure  in 
sharing  his  honour  with  his  brethren,  and  writes,  *  Ye 
also,  as  living  stones,  are  built  up.'  He  remembered  the 
contempt  for  others  and  the  trust  in  himself  with  which 
he  had  said,  *  Though  all  should  forsake  Thee,  yet  will 
not  I ' ;  and,  taught  what  must  come  of  that,  he  writes, 
*Be  clothed  with  humility,  for  God  resisteth  the  proud, 
and  giveth  grace  to  the  humble.'  He  remembered  how 
hastily  he  had  drawn  his  sword  and  struck  at  Malchus, 
and  he  writes,  '  If  when  ye  do  well  and  suffer  for  it,  ye 
take  it  patiently,  this  is  acceptable  with  God.'     He 


300  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.xvi. 

remembered  how  he  had  been  surprised  into  denial  by 
the  questions  of  a  sharp-tongued  servant-maid,  and  he 
writes,  *  Be  ready  always  to  give  an  answer  to  every 
man  that  asketh  you  a  reason  of  the  hope  that  is  in 
you,  with  meekness.'  He  remembered  how  the  pardon- 
ing love  of  his  Lord  had  honoured  him  unworthy,  with 
the  charge,  'Feed  My  sheep,'  and  he  writes,  ranking 
himself  as  one  of  the  class  to  whom  he  speaks — *  The 
elders  I  exhort,  who  am  also  an  elder  .  .  .  feed  the 
flock  of  God.'  He  remembered  that  last  command,  which 
sounded  ever  in  his  spirit,  '  Follow  thou  Me,'  and  dis- 
cerning now,  through  all  the  years  that  lay  between, 
the  presumptuous  folly  and  blind  inversion  of  his  own 
work  and  his  Master's  which  had  lain  in  his  earlier 
question, '  Why  cannot  I  follow  Thee  now  ?  I  will  lay 
down  my  life  for  Thy  sake ' — he  writes  to  all,  '  Christ 
also  suffered  for  us,  leaving  us  an  example,  that  ye 
should  follow  His  steps.' 

So  well  had  he  learned  the  lesson  of  his  own  sin,  and 
of  that  immortal  love  which  had  beckoned  him  back, 
to  peace  at  its  side  and  purity  from  its  hand.  Let  us 
learn  how  the  love  of  Christ,  received  into  the  heart, 
triumphs  gradually  but  surely  over  all  sin,  transforms 
character,  turning  even  its  weakness  into  strength, 
and  so,  from  the  depths  of  transgression  and  very  gates 
of  hell,  raises  men  to  God. 

To  us  all  this  divine  message  speaks.  Christ's  love 
is  extended  to  us ;  no  sin  can  stay  it ;  no  fall  of  ours 
can  make  Him  despair.  He  will  not  give  us  up.  He 
waits  to  be  gracious.  This  same  Peter  once  asked, 
*  How  oft  shall  my  brother  sin  against  me  and  I  forgive 
him  ? '  And  the  answer,  which  commanded  unwearied 
brotherly  forgiveness,  revealed  inexhaustible  divine 
pardon — *!  say  not  unto  thee  until  seven  times,  but 


V.  7]       LOVE'S  TRIUMPH  OVER  SIN       301 

until  seventy  times  seven.'  The  measure  of  the  divine 
mercy,  which  is  the  pattern  of  ours,  is  completeness 
ten  times  multiplied  by  itself;  we  know  not  the 
numbers  thereof.  *  Let  the  wicked  forsake  his  way 
.  .  .  and  let  him  return  unto  the  Lord,  for  He  will  have 
mercy  upon  him  ;  and  to  our  God,  for  He  will  multiply 
to  pardon.' 


•FIRST  TO  MARY* 

* .  .  .  He  appeared  firsb  to  Mary  Magdalene,  out;  of  whom  He  had  oast  seven 
devils.'— Mark  xtL  9. 

A  GREAT  pile  of  legend  has  been  built  on  the  one  or 
two  notices  of  Mary  Magdalene  in  Scripture.  Art, 
poetry,  and  philanthropy  have  accepted  and  inculcated 
these,  till  we  almost  feel  as  if  they  were  bits  of  the 
Bible.  But  there  is  not  the  shadow  of  a  foundation 
for  them.  She  has  generally  been  identified  with  the 
woman  in  Luke's  Gospel '  who  was  a  sinner.'  There  is 
no  reason  at  all  for  that  identification.  On  the  con- 
trary, there  is  a  reason  against  it,  in  the  fact  that 
immediately  after  that  narrative  she  is  named  as  one 
of  the  little  band  of  women  who  ministered  to  Jesus. 

Here  is  all  that  we  know  of  her :  that  Christ  cast  out 
the  seven  devils ;  that  she  became  one  of  the  Galilean 
women,  including  the  mothers  of  Jesus  and  of  John, 
who  '  ministered  to  Him  of  their  substance ' ;  that  she 
was  one  of  the  Marys  at  the  Cross  and  saw  the  inter- 
ment ;  that  she  came  to  the  sepulchre,  heard  the  angel's 
message,  went  to  John  with  it,  came  back  and  stood 
without  at  the  sepulchre,  saw  the  Lord,  and,  having 
heard  His  voice  and  clasped  His  feet,  returned  to  the 
little  company,  and  then  she  drops  out  of  the  narrative 
and  is  no  more  named.  That  is  all.  It  is  enough. 
There  are  large  lessons  in  this  fact  which  Mark  (or 
whoever  wrote  this  chapter)  gives  with  such  emphasis, 
'  He  appeared  first  to  Mary  Magdalene.' 

Think  what  the  Resurrection  is — how  stupendous 
and  wonderful !  Who  might  have  been  expected  to  be 
its  witnesses  ?    But  see !  the  first  eye  that  beholds  is  this 

802 


V.9]  'FIRST  TO  MARY*  803 

poor  sin-stained  woman's.  What  a  distance  between 
the  two  extremes  of  her  experience — devil-ridden  and 
gazing  on  the  Risen  Saviour ! 

I.  An  example  of  the  depth  to  which  the  soul  of  man 
can  descend. 

This  fact  of  possession  is  very  obscure  and  strange. 
I  doubt  whether  we  can  understand  it.  But  I  cannot 
see  how  we  can  bring  it  down  to  the  level  of  mere 
disease  without  involving  Jesus  Christ  in  the  charge  of 
consciously  aiding  in  upholding  what,  if  it  be  not  an 
awful  truth,  is  one  of  the  grimmest,  ghastliest  supersti- 
tions that  ever  terrified  men. 

In  all  ways  He  gives  in  His  adhesion  to  the  fact 
of  demoniacal  possession.  He  speaks  to  the  demons, 
and  of  them,  rebukes  them,  holds  conversations  with 
them,  charges  them  to  be  silent.  He  distinguishes 
between  possession  and  diseases.  '  Heal  the  sick, 
cleanse  the  lepers,  raise  the  dead ' — these  commands 
bring  together  forms  of  sickness  running  its  course; 
why  should  He  separate  from  them  His  next  com- 
mand and  endowment,  '  cast  out  devils,'  unless  because 
He  regarded  demoniacal  possession  as  separate  from 
sickness  in  any  form?  He  sees  in  His  casting  of 
them  out  the  triumph  over  the  personal  power  of 
evil.  'I  beheld  Satan  as  lightning  fall  from  heaven.' 
But  while  the  fact  seems  to  be  established,  the  thing  is 
only  known  to  us  by  its  signs.  These  were  madness, 
melancholy,  sometimes  dumbness,  sometimes  fits  and 
convulsions;  the  man  was  dominated  by  an  alien 
power;  there  was  a  strange,  awful  double  conscious- 
ness ;  '  We  are  many,'  '  My  name  is  Legion.'  There 
was  absolute  control  by  this  alien  power,  which  like 
some  parasitical  worm  had  rooted  itself  within  the 
poor  wretch,  and  there  lived  upon  his  blood  and  life 


304  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xvi. 

juices — only  that  it  lived  in  the  spirit,  dominated  the 
will,  and  controlled  the  nature. 

Probably  there  had  always  been  the  yielding  to  the 
impulse  to  sin  of  some  sort,  or  at  any  rate  the  man  had 
opened  the  door  for  the  devil  to  come  in. 

This  woman  had  been  in  the  deepest  depths  of  this 
awful  abyss.  *  Seven '  is  the  numerical  symbol  of  com- 
pleteness, so  she  had  been  utterly  devil-ridden.  And 
she  had  once  been  a  little  child  in  some  Galilean  home, 
and  parents  had  seen  her  budding  beauty  and  early, 
gentle,  womanly  ways.  And  now,  think  of  the  havoc ! 
the  distorted  face,  the  foul  words,  the  blasphemous 
thoughts ! 

And  is  this  worse  than  our  sinful  case  ?  Are  not  the 
devils  that  possess  us  as  real  and  powerful  ? 

II.  An  example  of  the  cleansing  power  of  Christ. 

We  know  nothing  about  how  she  had  come  under 
His  merciful  eye,  nor  any  of  the  circumstances  of  her 
healing;  but  only  that  this  woman,  with  whom  the 
serpent  was  so  closely  intertwined,  as  in  some  pictures 
of  Eve's  temptation,  was  not  beyond  His  reach,  and 
was  set  free.    Note — 

There  is  no  condition  of  human  misery  which  Christ 
cannot  alleviate. 

None  is  so  sunk  in  sin  that  He  cannot  redeem  them. 

For  all  in  the  world  there  is  hope. 

Look  on  the  extremest  forms  of  sin.  We  can  regard 
them  all  with  the  assurance  that  Christ  can  cleanse 
them — prostitutes,  thieves,  respectable  worldlings. 

None  is  so  bad  as  to  have  lost  His  love. 

None  is  so  bad  as  to  be  excluded  from  the  purpose 
of  His  death. 

None  is  so  bad  as  to  be  beyond  the  reach  of  His 
cleansing  power. 


V.  9]  'FIRST  TO  MARY*  805 

None  has  wandered  so  far  that  he  cannot  come 
back. 

Think  of  the  earliest  believers — a  thief,  a  'woman 
that  was  a  sinner,'  this  Mary,  a  Zacchseus,  a  persecuting 
Paul,  a  rude,  rough  jailer,  etc. 

Remember  Paul's  description  of  a  class  of  the  Cor- 
inthian saints — '  such  were  some  of  you.' 

As  long  as  man  is  man,  so  long  is  God  ready  to 
receive  him  back.  There  is  no  place  where  sun  does 
not  shine.  No  heart  is  given  over  to  irremediable 
hardness.    None  ever  comes  to  Christ  in  vain. 

The  Saviour  is  greater  than  all  our  sins. 

The  deliverance  is  more  than  sufficient  for  the  worst. 

•  God  is  able  of  these  stones  to  raise  up  children  to 
Abraham.' 

Ezekiel's  vision  of  dry  bones. 

III.  An  example  of  how  the  remembrance  of  past 
and  pardoned  sin  may  be  a  blessing. 

Mary  evidently  tried  always  to  be  beside  Him.  The 
cure  had  been  perfect,  but  perhaps  there  was  a 
tremulous  fear,  as  in  the  man  that  prayed  'that  he 
might  be  with  Him.' 

And  so,  look  how  all  the  notices  give  us  one  picture 
of  a  heart  set  on  Him.    There  were — 

(a)  Consciousness  of  weakness,  that  made  her  long 
for  His  presence  as  a  security. 

(6)  Deep  love,  that  made  her  long  for  His  presence  as 
a  joy. 

(c)  Thankful  gratitude,  that  made  her  long  for  oppor- 
tunities to  serve  Him. 

And  this  is  what  the  remembrance  of  Jesus  should 
be  to  us. 

IV.  An  example  of  how  the  most  degraded  may  rise 
highest  in  fellowship  with  Christ. 

VOL.  U.  U 


*506  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xvi. 

'First'  to  her,  because  she  needed  Him  and  longed 
for  Him. 

Now  this  is  but  an  illustration  of  the  great  principle 
that  by  God's  mercy  sin  when  it  is  hated  and  pardoned 
may  be  made  to  subserve  our  highest  joys. 

It  is  not  sin  which  separates  us  from  God,  but  it  is 
unpardoned  sin.  Not  that  the  more  we  sin  the  more 
we  are  fit  for  Him,  for  all  sin  is  loss.  There  are  ways 
in  which  even  forgiven  and  repented  sin  may  injure  a 
man.  But  there  is  nothing  in  it  to  hinder  our  coming 
close  to  the  Saviour  and  enjoying  all  the  fulness  of 
His  love,  so  that  if  we  use  it  rightly  it  may  become 
a  help. 

If  it  leads  us  to  that  clinging  of  which  we  have  just 
spoken,  then  we  shall  come  nearer  to  God  for  it. 

The  divine  presence  is  always  given  to  those  who 
long  for  it. 

Sin  may  help  to  kindle  such  longings. 

He  who  has  been  almost  dead  in  the  wilderness  will 
keep  near  the  guide.  The  man  that  has  been  starved 
with  cold  in  Arctic  night  will  prize  the  glory  and 
grace  of  sunshine  in  fairer  lands. 

Instances  in  Church  history — Paul,  Augustine, 
Bunyan. 

*  Publicans  and  harlots  go  into  the  kingdom  before 
you.' 

The  noblest  illustration  is  in  heaven,  where  men  lead 
the  song  of  Redemption. 

God  uses  sin  as  a  black  background  on  which  the 
brightest  rainbow  tints  of  His  mercy  are  displayed. 

You  can  come  to  this  Saviour  whatever  you  have 
been.  I  say  to  no  man,  '  Sin,  for  it  does  not  matter.' 
But  I  do  say,  *  If  you  are  conscious  of  sin,  deep,  dark, 
damning,  that  makes  no  barrier  between  you  and  God. 


V.  9]  *  FIRST  TO  MARY'  307 

You  may  come  all  the  nearer  for  it  if  you  will  let  your 
past  teach  you  to  long  for  His  love  and  to  lean  on 
Him.' 

*He  appeared  first  to  Mary  Magdalene,'  and  those 
who  stand  nearest  the  throne  and  lead  the  anthems 
of  heaven,  and  look  up  with  undazzled  angels'  faces  to 
the  God  of  their  joy,  whose  name  blazes  on  their  fore- 
heads, all  these  were  guilty,  sinful  men.  But  they 
•have  washed  their  robes  and  made  them  white.' 
There  will  be  in  heaven  some  of  the  worst  sinners  that 
ever  lived  on  earth.  There  will  not  be  one  out  of 
whom  He  has  not '  cast  seven  devils.' 


THE  WORLD-WIDE  COMMISSION 

•  Every  creature.'— Mark  xvi.  15. 

The  missionary  enterprise  has  been  put  on  many 
bases.  People  do  not  like  commandments,  but  yet  it 
is  a  great  relief  and  strength  to  come  back  to  one, 
and  answer  all  questions  with  '  He  bids  me ! ' 

Now,  these  words  of  our  Lord  open  up  the  whole 
subject  of  the  Universality  of  Christianity. 

I.  The  divine  audacity  of  Christianity. 

Take  the  scene.  A  mere  handful  of  men,  whether 
•the  twelve'  or  'the  five  hundred  brethren'  is  imma- 
terial. 

How  they  must  have  recoiled  when  they  heard  the 
sweeping  command,  *  Go  ye  into  all  the  world ' !  It  is 
like  the  apparent  absurdity  of  Christ's  quiet  word: 
•  They  need  not  depart ;  give  ye  them  to  eat,'  when  the 
only  visible  .rtock  of  food  was  'five  loaves  and  two 
small  fishes.'  As  on  that  occasion,  so  in  this  final  com- 
mandment they  had  to  take  Christ's  presence  into 
account.    '  I  am  with  you.' 

So  note  the  obviously  world-wide  extent  of  Christ's 
claim  of  dominion.  He  had  come  into  the  world, 
to  begin  with,  that  'the  world  through  Him  might 
be  saved.'  '  If  any  man  thirst,  let  him  come.'  The 
parables  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  are  planned  on  the 
same  grand  scale.  '  I  will  draw  all  men  unto  Me.'  It 
cannot  be  disputed  that  Jesus  'lived  and  moved  and 
had  His  being'  in  this  vision  of  universal  dominion. 

Here  emerges  the  great  contrast  of  Christianity 
with  Judaism.    Judaism  was  intolerant,  as  all  merely 

monotheistic  faiths  must  be,  and  sure  of  future  uui- 

sos 


V.  16]     WORLD-WIDE  COMMISSION        809 

versality,  but  it  was  not  proselytising — not  a  missionary 
faith.  Nor  is  it  so  to-day.  It  is  exclusive  and  un- 
progressive  still. 

Mohammedanism  in  its  fiery  youth,  because  mono- 
theistic was  aggressive,  but  it  enforced  outward 
profession  only,  and  left  the  inner  life  untouched. 
So  it  did  not  scruple  to  persecute  as  well  as  to  pro- 
selytise. Christianity  is  alone  in  calmly  setting  forth 
a  universal  dominion,  and  in  seeking  it  by  the  Word 
alone.      *  Put  up  thy  sword  into  its  sheath.' 

II.  The  foundations  of  this  bold  claim. 

Christ's  sole  and  singular  relation  to  the  whole  race. 
There  are  profound  truths  embodied  in  this  relation. 

(a)  There  is  implied  the  adequacy  of  Christ  for  all. 
He  is  for  all,  because  He  is  the  only  and  all-sufficient 
Saviour.  By  His  death  He  offered  satisfaction  for  the 
sins  of  the  whole  world.  •  Look  unto  Me,  and  be  ye 
saved,  all  the  ends  of  the  earth,  for  I  am  God,  and  there 
is  none  else.'  '  Neither  is  there  salvation  in  any  other, 
for  there  is  none  other  name,'  etc. 

(6)  The  divine  purpose  of  mercy  for  all.  *God  will 
have  all  men  to  be  saved,  and  to  come  to  a  knowledge 
of  the  truth.' 

(c)  The  adaptation  of  the  Gospel  message  to  all.  It 
deals  with  all  men  as  on  one  level.  It  addresses  universal 
humanity.  *  Unto  you,  O  men,  I  call,  and  My  voice  is 
to  the  sons  of  men.'  It  speaks  the  same  language 
to  all  sorts  of  men,  to  all  stages  of  society,  and  in  all 
ages.  Christianity  has  no  esoteric  doctrine,  no  inner 
circle  of  the  'initiated.'  Consequently  it  introduces 
a  new  notion  of  the  unity  of  humanity,  and  knows 
nothing  of  privileged  classes. 

Note  the  history  of  Christianity  in  its  relation  to 
slavery,    and    to    inferior   and    down-trodden   races. 


810  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.xvi. 

Christianity  has  no  belief  in  the  existence  of  'irre- 
claimable outcasts,'  but  proclaims  and  glories  in  the 
possibility  of  winning  any  and  all  to  the  love  which 
makes  godlike.  There  is  one  Saviour,  and  so  there  is 
only  one  Gospel  for  •  all  the  world.' 

III.  Its  vindication  in  facts. 

The  history  of  the  diffusion  of  the  Gospel  at  first  is 
significant.  Think  of  the  varieties  of  civilisation  it 
approached  and  absorbed.  See  how  it  overcame  the 
bonds  of  climate  and  language,  etc.  How  unlike  the 
Europe  of  to-day  is  to  the  Europe  of  Paul's  time ! 

In  this  twentieth  century  Christianity  does  not 
present  the  marks  of  an  expiring  superstition. 

Note,  further,  that  the  history  of  missions  vindicates 
the  world-wide  claim  of  the  Gospel.  Think  of  the 
wonderful  number  of  converts  in  the  first  fifty  years 
of  gospel  preaching.  The  Roman  empire  was  Chris- 
tianised in  three  centuries !  Recall  the  innumerable 
testimonies  down  to  date;  e.g.  the  absolute  abandon- 
ment of  idols  in  the  South  Sea  Islands,  the  weakening 
of  caste  in  India,  the  romance  of  missions  in  Central 
Africa,  etc.  etc. 

The  character,  too,  of  modern  converts  is  as  good 
as  was  that  of  Paul's.  The  gospel  in  this  century 
produces  everywhere  fruits  like  those  which  it  brought 
forth  in  Asia  and  Europe  in  the  first  century.  The 
success  has  been  in  every  field.  None  has  been  aban- 
doned as  hopeless.  The  Moravians  in  Greenland.  The 
Hottentots.  The  Patagonians  (Darwin's  testimony). 
Christianity  has  constantly  appealed  to  all  classes  of 
society.  Not  many  •  noble,'  but  some  in  every  age  and 
land. 

IV.  The  practical  duty. 

'  Go  ye  and  preach.'     The  matter  is  literally  left  in 


V.15]     WORLD-WIDE  COMMISSION        311 

our  hands.  Jesus  has  returned  to  the  throne.  Ere 
departing  He  announces  the  distinct  command.  There 
it  is,  and  it  is  age-long  in  its  application, — •  Preach ! '  that 
is  the  one  gospel  weapon.  Tell  of  the  name  and  the 
work  of  '  God  manifest  in  the  flesh.'  First  *  evangelise,' 
then  '  disciple  the  nations.'  Bring  to  Christ,  then  build 
up  in  Christ.  There  are  no  other  orders.  Let  there  be 
boundless  trust  in  the  divine  gospel,  and  it  will  vindi- 
cate itself  in  every  mission-field.  Let  us  think  imperi- 
ally of  '  Christ  and  the  Church.'  Our  anticipations  of 
success  should  be  world-wide  in  their  sweep. 

As  when  they  kindle  the  festival  lamps  round  the 
dome  of  St.  Peter's,  there  is  a  first  twinkling  spot  here 
and  another  there,  and  gradually  they  multiply  till 
they  outline  the  whole  in  an  unbroken  ring  of  light,  so 
'one  by  one'  men  will  enter  the  kingdom,  till  at  last 
'  every  knee  shall  bow,  and  every  tongue  confess  that 
Jesus  is  Lord.' 

*  He  shall  reign  from  shore  to  shore, 
With  illimitable  sway.' 


THE  ENTHRONED  CHRIST 

'  So  then  after  the  Lord  had  spoken  unto  them.  He  was  received  up  into  heaven, 
and  sat  on  the  ri^ht  hand  of  Ood.'— MARK'xvi.  19. 

How  strangely  calm  and  brief  is  this  record  of  so 
stupendous  an  event !  Do  these  sparing  and  rever- 
ent words  sound  to  you  like  the  product  of  devout 
imagination,  embellishing  with  legend  the  facts  of 
history?  To  me  their  very  restrainedness,  calmness, 
matter-of-factness,  if  I  may  so  call  it,  are  a  strong 
guarantee  that  they  are  the  utterance  of  an  eye- 
witness, who  verily  saw  what  he  tells  so  simply.  There 
is  something  sublime  in  the  contrast  between  the 
magnificence  and  almost  inconceivable  grandeur  of  the 
thing  communicated,  and  the  quiet  words,  so  few,  so 
sober,  so  wanting  in  all  detail,  in  which  it  is  told. 

That  stupendous  fact  of  Christ  sitting  at  the  right 
hand  of  God  is  the  one  that  should  fill  the  present  for 
us  all,  even  as  the  Cross  should  fill  the  past,  and  the 
coming  for  Judgment  should  fill  the  future.  So  for  us 
the  one  central  thought  about  the  present,  in  its  loftiest 
relations,  should  be  the  throned  Christ  at  God's  right 
hand.  It  is  to  that  thought  of  the  session  of  Jesus 
by  the  side  of  the  Majesty  of  the  Heavens  that  I 
wish  to  turn  now,  to  try  to  bring  out  the  profound 
teaching  that  is  in  it,  and  the  practical  lessons  which  it 
suggests.  I  desire  to  emphasise  very  briefly  four 
points,  and  to  see,  in  Christ's  sitting  at  the  right  hand, 
the  revelation  of  these  things  : — The  exalted  Man,  the 
resting  Saviour,  the  interceding  Priest,  and  the  ever- 
active  Helper. 

812 


V.  19]       THE  ENTHRONED  CHRIST         313 

I.  First,  then,  in  that  solemn  and  wondrous  fact  of 
Christ's  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  we  have  the 
exalted  Man. 

We  are  taught  to  believe,  according  to  His  own  words, 
that  in  His  ascension  Christ  was  but  returning  whence 
He  came,  and  entering  into  the  '  glory  which  He  had 
with  the  Father  before  the  world  was.'  And  that  im- 
pression of  a  return  to  His  native  and  proper  abode  is 
strongly  conveyed  to  us  by  the  narrative  of  His  ascen- 
sion. Contrast  it,  for  instance,  with  the  narrative  of 
Elijah's  rapture,  or  with  the  brief  reference  to  Enoch's 
translation.  The  one  was  taken  by  God  up  into  a 
region  and  a  state  which  he  had  not  formerly  traversed ; 
the  other  was  borne  by  a  fiery  chariot  to  the  heavens ; 
but  Christ  slowly  sailed  upwards,  as  it  were,  by  His 
own  inherent  power,  returning  to  His  abode,  and 
ascending  up  where  He  was  before. 

But  whilst  this  is  one  side  of  the  profound  fact,  there 
is  another  side.  What  was  new  in  Christ's  return  to 
His  Father's  bosom  ?  This,  that  He  took  His  Manhood 
with  Him.  It  was  •  the  Everlasting  Son  of  the  Father,' 
the  Eternal  Word,  which  from  the  beginning '  was  with 
God  and  was  God,'  that  came  down  from  heaven  to 
earth,  to  declare  the  Father ;  but  it  was  the  Incarnate 
Word,  the  Man  Christ  Jesus,  that  went  back  again. 
This  most  blessed  and  wonderful  truth  is  taught  with 
emphasis  in  His  own  words  before  the  Council, '  Ye  shall 
see  the  Son  of  Man  sitting  on  the  right  hand  of 
power.'  Christ,  then,  to-day,  bears  a  human  body,  not, 
indeed,  the  '  body  of  His  humiliation,'  but  the  body  of 
His  glory,  which  is  none  the  less  a  true  corporeal 
frame,  and  necessarily  requires  a  locality.  His  ascen- 
sion, whithersoever  He  may  have  gone,  was  the  true 
carrying  of  a  real  humanity,  complete  in  all  its  parts, 


314  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.  xvi. 

Body,    Soul,    and    Spirit,    up    to  the   very  throne  of 
God. 

Where  that  locality  is  it  is  bootless  to  speculate. 
Scripture  says  that  He  ascended  up  'far  above  all 
heavens  * ;  or,  as  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  has  it,  in 
the  proper  translation,  the  High  Priest  'is  passed 
through  the  heavens,'  as  if  all  this  visible  material 
creation  was  rent  asunder  in  order  that  He  might  soar 
yet  higher  beyond  its  limits  wherein  reign  mutation 
and  decay.  But  wheresoever  that  place  may  be,  there 
is  a  place  in  which  now,  with  a  human  body  as  well 
as  a  human  spirit,  Jesus  is  sitting  •  at  the  right  hand 
of  God.' 

Let  us  thankfully  think  how,  in  the  profound  lan- 
guage of  Scripture,  '  the  Forerunner  is  for  us  entered ' ; 
how,  in  some  mysterious  manner,  of  which  we  can  but 
dimly  conceive,  that  entrance  of  Jesus  in  His  complete 
humanity  into  the  highest  heavens  is  the  preparation 
of  a  place  for  us.  It  seems  as  if,  without  His  presence 
there,  there  were  no  entrance  for  human  nature  within 
that  state,  and  no  power  in  a  human  foot  to  tread 
upon  the  crystal  pavements  of  the  celestial  City,  but 
where  He  is,  there  the  path  is  permeable,  and  the  place 
native,  to  all  who  love  and  trust  Him. 

We  may  stand,  therefore,  with  these  disciples,  and 
looking  upwards  as  the  cloud  receives  Him  out  of  our 
sight,  our  faith  follows  Him,  still  our  Brother,  still 
clothed  with  humanity,  still  wearing  a  bodily  frame ;  and 
we  say,  as  we  lose  Him  from  our  vision, '  What  is  man '  ? 
Capable  of  being  lifted  to  the  most  intimate  parti- 
cipation in  the  glories  of  divinity,  and  though  he  be 
poor  and  weak  and  sinful  here,  yet  capable  of  union 
and  assimilation  with  the  Majesty  that  is  on  high.  For 
what  Christ's  Body  is,  the  bodies  of  tbem  that  love  and 


V.  19]       THE  ENTHRONED  CHUIST        315 

serve  Him  shall  surely  be,  and  He,  the  Forerunner,  is 
entered  there  for  us ;  that  we  too,  in  our  turn,  may  pass 
into  the  light,  and  walk  in  the  full  blaze  of  the  divine 
glory ;  as  of  old  the  children  in  the  furnace  were,  un- 
consumed,  because  companioned  by  *  One  like  unto  the 
Son  of  Man.' 

The  exalted  Christ,  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  God, 
is  the  Pattern  of  what  is  possible  for  humanity,  and  the 
prophecy  and  pledge  of  what  will  be  actual  for  all  that 
love  Him  and  bear  the  image  of  Him  upon  earth,  that 
they  may  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  His  glory,  and 
be  with  Him  where  He  is.  What  firmness,  what 
reality,  what  solidity  this  thought  of  the  exalted  bodily 
Christ  gives  to  the  else  dim  and  vague  conceptions  of  a 
Heaven  beyond  the  stars  and  beyond  our  present  experi- 
ence! I  believe  that  no  doctrine  of  a  future  life  has 
strength  and  substance  enough  to  survive  the  agonies 
of  our  hearts  when  we  part  from  our  dear  ones,  the 
fears  of  our  spirits  when  we  look  into  the  unknown, 
inane  future  for  ourselves  ;  except  only  this  which  says 
Heaven  is  Christ  and  Christ  is  Heaven,  and  points  to 
Him  and  says,  *  Where  He  is,  there  and  that  also  shall 
His  servants  be.* 

II.  Now,  secondly,  look  at  Christ's  sitting  at  the  right 
hand  of  God  as  presenting  to  our  view  the  Resting 
Saviour. 

That  session  expresses  the  idea  of  absolute  repose  after 
sore  conflict.  It  is  the  same  thought  which  is  expressed 
in  those  solemn  Egyptian  colossal  statues  of  deified  con- 
querors, elevated  to  mysterious  union  with  their  gods, 
and  yet  men  still,  sitting  before  their  temples  in  perfect 
stillness,  with  their  mighty  hands  lying  quiet  on  their 
restful  limbs ;  with  calm  faces  out  of  which  toil  and 
passion  and  change  seem  to  have  melted,  gazing  out 


316  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.xvl 

with  open  eyes  as  over  a  silent,  prostrate  world.  So, 
with  the  Cross  behind,  with  all  the  agony  and  weariness 
of  the  arena,  the  dust  and  the  blood  of  the  struggle, 
left  beneath,  He  *  sitteth  at  the  right  hand  of  God  the 
Father  Almighty.' 

The  rest  of  the  Christ  after  His  Cross  is  parallel  with 
and  carries  the  same  meaning  as  the  rest  of  God  after 
the  Creation.  Why  do  we  read  'He  rested  on  the 
seventh  day  from  all  His  works'?  Did  the  Creative 
Arm  grow  weary?  Was  there  toil  for  the  divine 
nature  in  the  making  of  a  universe  ?  Doth  He  not 
speak  and  it  is  done  ?  Is  not  the  calm,  effortless  forth- 
putting  of  His  will  the  cause  and  the  means  of  Crea- 
tion ?  Does  any  shadow  of  weariness  steal  over  that 
life  which  lives  and  is  not  exhausted  ?  Does  the  bush 
consume  in  burning  ?  Surely  not.  He  rested  from  His 
works,  not  because  He  needed  to  recuperate  strength 
after  action  by  repose,  but  because  the  works  were  per- 
fect, and  in  sign  and  token  that  His  ideal  was  accom- 
plished, and  that  no  more  was  needed  to  be  done. 

And,  in  like  manner,  the  Christ  rests  after  His  Cross, 
not  because  He  needed  repose  even  after  that  terrible 
effort,  or  was  panting  after  His  race,  and  so  had  to  sit 
there  to  recover,  but  in  token  that  His  work  was 
finished  and  perfected,  that  all  which  He  had  come  to 
do  was  done ;  and  in  token,  likewise,  that  the  Father, 
too,  beheld  and  accepted  the  finished  work.  There- 
fore, the  session  of  Christ  at  the  right  hand  of  God 
is  the  proclamation  from  Heaven  of  what  He  cried 
with  His  last  dying  breath  upon  the  Cross:  *It  is 
finished ! '  It  is  the  declaration  that  the  world  has  had 
all  done  for  it  that  Heaven  can  do  for  it.  It  is  the 
declaration  that  all  which  is  needed  for  the  regenera- 
tion of  humanity  has  been  lodged  in  the  very  heart  of 


V.  19]       THE  ENTHRONED  CHRIST        317 

the  race,  and  that  henceforward  all  that  is  required  is 
the  evolving  and  the  development  of  the  consequences 
of  that  perfect  work  which  Christ  offered  upon  the 
Cross.  So  the  writer  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews 
contrasts  the  priests  who  stood  'daily  ministering 
and  offering  oftentimes  the  same  sacrifices '  which  '  can 
never  take  away  sin,*  with  'this  Man  who,  after  He 
had  offered  one  sacrifice  for  sins  for  ever,  sat  down 
at  the  right  hand  of  God ' ;  testifying  thereby  that  His 
Cross  is  the  complete,  sufficient,  perpetual  atonement 
and  satisfaction  for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world.  So  we 
have  to  look  back  to  that  past  as  interpreted  by  this 
present,  to  that  Cross  as  commented  upon  by  this 
Throne,  and  to  see  in  it  the  perfect  work  which  any 
human  soul  may  grasp,  and  which  all  human  souls 
need,  for  their  acceptance  and  forgiveness.  The  Son  of 
Man  set  at  the  right  hand  of  God  is  Christ's  declaration, 
•  I  have  finished  the  work  which  Thou  gavest  Me  to  do,* 
and  is  also  God's  declaration,  *  This  is  My  beloved  Son, 
in  whom  I  am  well  pleased.' 

III.  Once  more,  we  see  here,  in  this  great  fact  of 
Christ  sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  the  interceding 
Priest. 

So  the  Scripture  declares.  The  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  over  and  over  again  reiterates  that  thought 
that  we  have  a  Priest  who  has  'passed  into  the 
heavens,'  there  to  *  appear  in  the  presence  of  God  for 
us.'  And  the  Apostle  Paul,  in  that  great  linked 
climax  in  the  eighth  chapter  of  the  Epistle  to  the 
Romans,  has  it,  *  Christ  that  died,  yea  rather,  that  is 
risen  again,  who  is  even  at  the  right  hand  of  God, 
who  also  maketh  intercession  for  us.'  There  are  deep 
mysteries  connected  with  that  thought  of  the  inter- 
cession of  Christ.    It  does  not  mean  that  the  divine 


318  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK      [ch.xvi. 

heart  needs  to  be  won  to  love  and  pity.  It  does  not 
mean  that  in  any  mere  outward  and  formal  fashion 
Christ  pleads  with  God,  and  softens  and  placates  the 
Infinite  and  Eternal  love  of  the  Father  in  the  heavens. 
It,  at  least,  plainly  means  this,  that  He,  our  Saviour 
and  Sacrifice,  is  for  ever  in  the  presence  of  God ; 
presenting  His  own  blood  as  an  element  in  the  divine 
dealing  with  us,  modifying  the  incidence  of  the  divine 
law,  and  securing  through  His  own  merits  and  inter- 
cession the  outflow  of  blessings  upon  our  heads  and 
hearts.  It  is  not  a  complete  statement  of  Christ's 
work  for  us  that  He  died  for  us.  He  died  that  He  might 
have  somewhat  to  offer.  He  lives  that  He  may  be  our 
Advocate  as  well  as  our  propitiation  with  the  Father. 
And  just  as  the  High  Priest  once  a  year  passed  within 
the  curtain,  and  there  in  the  solemn  silence  and 
solitude  of  the  holy  place  sprinkled  the  blood  that  he 
bore  thither,  not  without  trembling,  and  but  for  a 
moment  permitted  to  stay  in  the  awful  Presence,  thus, 
but  in  reality  and  for  ever,  with  the  joyful  gladness  of 
a  Son  in  His  '  own  calm  home,  His  habitation  from 
eternity,'  Christ  abides  in  the  Holy  Place  ;  and,  at  the 
right  hand  of  the  Majesty  of  the  Heavens,  lifts  up  that 
prayer,  so  strangely  compact  of  authority  and  submis- 
sion :  *  Father,  I  will  that  these  whom  Thou  hast  given 
Me  be  with  Me  where  I  am.'  The  Son  of  Man  at 
the  right  hand  of  God  is  our  Intercessor  with  the 
Father.  'Seeing,  then,  that  we  have  a  great  High 
Priest  that  is  passed  through  the  heavens,  let  us  come 
boldly  to  the  Throne  of  Grace.* 

IV.  Lastly,  this  great  fact  sets  before  us  the  ever- 
active  Helper. 

The  •  right  hand  of  God '  is  the  Omnipotent  energy  of 
God ;  and  howsoever  certainly  the  language  of  Scrip- 


V.  19]         THE  ENTHRONED  CHRIST        819 

ture  requires  for  its  full  interpretation  that  we  should 
firmly  hold  that  Christ's  glorified  body  dwells  in  a 
place,  we  are  not  to  omit  the  other  thought  that  to  sit 
at  the  right  hand  also  means  to  wield  the  immortal 
energy  of  that  divine  nature,  over  all  the  field  of  the 
Creation,  and  in  every  province  of  His  dominion.  So 
that  the  ascended  Christ  is  the  ubiquitous  Christ ;  and 
He  who  is  'at  the  right  hand  of  God'  is  wherever 
the  power  of  God  reaches  throughout  His  whole 
Universe. 

Remember,  too,  that  it  was  once  given  to  a  man  to 
look  through  the  opened  heavens  (through  which 
Christ  had  '  passed ' )  and  to  '  see  the  Son  of  Man  stand- 
ing ' — not  sitting — '  at  the  right  hand  of  God.'  Why  to 
the  dying  protomartyr  was  there  granted  that  vision 
thus  varied  ?  Wherefore  was  the  attitude  changed  but 
to  express  the  swiftness,  the  certainty  of  His  help,  and 
the  eager  readiness  of  the  Lord,  who  starts  to  His 
feet,  as  it  were,  to  succour  and  to  sustain  His  dying 
servant  ? 

And  so,  dear  friends,  we  may  take  that  great  joyful 
truth  that  both  as  receiving  'gifts  for  men'  and  bestow- 
ing gifts  upon  them,  and  as  working  by  His  providence 
in  the  world,  and  on  the  wider  scale  for  the  well-being 
of  His  children  and  of  the  Church,  the  Christ  who  sits 
at  the  right  hand  of  God  wields,  ever  with  eager 
cheerfulness,  all  the  powers  of  omnipotence  for  our 
well-being,  if  we  love  and  trust  Him.  We  may  look 
quietly  upon  all  perplexities  and  complications,  because 
the  hands  that  were  pierced  for  us  hold  the  helm  and 
the  reins,  because  the  Christ  who  is  our  Brother  is  the 
King,  and  sits  supreme  at  the  centre  of  the  Universe. 
Joseph's  brethren,  that  came  up  in  their  hunger  and 
their  rags  to  Egypt,  and  found  their  brother  next 


320  GOSPEL  OF  ST.  MARK       [ch.  xvi. 

the  throne,  were  startled  with  a  great  joy  of  surprise, 
and  fears  were  calmed,  and  confidence  sprang  in  their 
hearts.  Shall  not  we  be  restful  and  confident  when 
our  Brother,  the  Son  of  Man,  sits  ruling  all  things  ? 
*We  see  not  yet  all  things  put  under'  us,  'but  we  see 
Jesus,'  and  that  is  enough. 

So  the  ascended  Man,  the  resting  Saviour  and  His 
completed  work,  the  interceding  Priest,  and  the  ever- 
active  Helper,  are  all  brought  before  us  in  this  great 
and  blessed  thought, '  Christ  sitteth  at  the  right  hand 
of  God.'  Therefore,  dear  friends,  set  your  affection  on 
things  above.  Our  hearts  travel  where  our  dear  ones 
are.  Oh  how  strange  and  sad  it  is  that  professing 
Christians  whose  lives,  if  they  are  Christians  at  all, 
have  their  roots  and  are  hid  with  Christ  in  God,  should 
turn  so  few,  so  cold  thoughts  and  loves  thither !  Surely 
'  where  your  treasure  is  there  will  your  heart  be  also.' 
Surely  if  Christ  is  your  Treasure  you  will  feel  that  with 
Him  is  home,  and  that  this  is  a  foreign  land.  'Set 
your  affection,'  then,  '  on  things  above,'  while  life 
lasts,  and  when  it  is  ebbing  away,  perhaps  to  our  eyes 
too  Heaven  may  be  opened,  and  the  vision  of  the  Son 
of  Man  standing  to  receive  and  to  welcome  us  may  be 
granted.  And  when  it  has  ebbed  away,  His  will  be  the 
first  voice  to  welcome  us,  and  He  will  lift  us  to  share 
in  His  glorious  rest,  according  to  His  own  wondrous 
promise,  'To  him  that  overcometh  will  I  grant  to  sit 
with  Me  in  My  Throne,  even  as  I  also  overcame,  and 
am  set  down  with  My  Father  in  His  Throne.' 


^ 


WMm 


Date  Due 


